Forgotten Lives
by XxlockksofcurlsxX
Summary: When she moved in with her aunt and uncle seven years earlier, she thought she had left her troubled past behind. But when an unexpected guest comes to live at Morningstar Farms, Clary doesn't know what to think of him. OOC/AU lang/adult themes
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! First off, thank you for reading! It means a lot. This is my first story, so I'm a newbie here :) Please review! Tell me if you like it/hate it. If you like it that's great, and if you hate it that's OK too. I'm going to need a driving force here 'cause I write really slow :) I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors. I don't have a Beta yet. Anyways, hope you enjoy the first chapter._

_All characters belong to Cassandra Clare. Except for the ones I make up that is ;)_

* * *

The sun rose over the far pasture and fiery rays of sunlight burst through her windows. The alarm trilled, signaling that it was five in the morning. Clary awoke with a start and flung her hand over to the nightstand, effectively cutting off the annoying buzz. Sitting up, she squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to dispel the pain that pulsed there. She stayed like that for nearly ten minutes but, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't make the flashes of her worst nightmares leave her vision.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and picked up the bottle of painkillers from her nightstand. Walking over to the bathroom, she took a sip from the tap and swallowed a few of the pills. She looked up and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her auburn hair looked like a bird had nested there. Chunks of frizzy, red curls stuck up in weird places and little tendrils were stuck to the base of her neck from sweat. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them, which were only made more visible by her pale skin. Her green eyes looked tired and lackluster. She splashed some cold water on her face, willing herself to not look so much like a zombie. Turning back to her bedroom, she dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt, used her fingers to comb through her hair as best as she could, and pulled it into a ponytail.

She walked across the hallway and into the kitchen where she found her aunt, Amatis, and her uncle, Luke, sitting across from one another sipping on their coffees. Luke was looking over the scheduling for the day, and Amatis was looking particularly forlorn while shuffling through a large pile of bills.

"Hey," Clary said in greeting. Amatis looked up and gave her a tired smile. Luke mumbled a hello, obviously focused on what he was doing.

"Did you sleep well, honey?" Amatis asked, pushing aside the papers. She took another tentative sip of coffee and grimaced when the bitter liquid burned her tongue.

"Yeah, it was OK," she lied smoothly, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out two large red apples. She didn't bother whining about her nightmares since they had so much more on their minds. Her aunt and uncle worried enough as it was. "I'm gonna go and see Michael, I'm sure he's already waiting for me," she continued.

Michael Wayland was the stables horse trainer. He and Clary had been working together with Caspian, who was Morningstar's best chance at winning their next race on Monday, since the farm really needed a top racehorse to win the purse. The growing number of bills on the table could attest to that. The last race with a substantial purse that they had won had been over a year ago.

Clary hurried toward the door juggling the two apples and a water bottle in her hands. Just as she was about to step out the door, Luke called her back inside.

"Clary, wait," Luke said. Clary turned back into the kitchen with her hand still on the doorknob. Luke pushed aside the schedule and stood to face her.

He cleared his throat. "We're hiring another farmhand." Puzzlement washed over her features. Luke was the one that handled the hiring and firing of hands, not Clary. She wondered if he wanted an opinion. It wouldn't be the first time.

"So…" she hedged.

"Well, let's just say he's not from the best of backgrounds, but," he said seeing her expression, "we're gonna give him a chance here."

"What do you mean not from the best of backgrounds?"

"He was in a juvenile detention center."

"What?" she gasped, "then why the hell are you letting him come here? What did he do?"

"Now, just calm down," he hesitated, "he had quite a few assault charges but he's done his time and when I went over there to talk to Lionel, he introduced me to him. The boy really needed a job so I offered him one," he said reasonably. "It's better than having him back out on the streets," he added in an undertone.

"Assault?" Clary's blood went cold. The kid should stay in jail, or rot in it for that matter, she thought. How could they even afford to hire another worker? They had to let go five workers recently.

"Yes, and that's why I wanted to tell you," he said gently.

"How can we even afford to have another worker?"

Luke sighed. "He offered to work for free...that is, if we gave him a place to stay."

Clary couldn't believe it. She just stared at him.

"So, he's gonna stay in the spare cabin," he continued, looking harassed.

"I can't believe you would let a felon come to _live_ here," she said. _He's probably going assault one of the other workers, _she thought_._

Amatis cut in quietly. "Look, Clary we know this is hard for you considering what happened with your-"

Clary narrowed her eyes. "Don't," she cut her off with what was close to a hiss, "talk about that." Turning on the heel of her boot she slammed the door shut behind her as she ran towards the stables leaving her aunt and uncle with shocked looks on their faces. She couldn't deal with them anymore right now, she needed to think. The crisp morning air bit at her skin as she ran across the yard towards the rising sun. Gravel crunched beneath her boots while she crossed the driveway and finally entered the barn.

She took a deep breath, using the familiar smell to calm her. The barn was large but cozy; the weathered wood walls looked homey and nothing like the pristine pine slats at the Willow Springs Center down the road. A few horses nickered when they heard her walk in. Clary made her way over to Caspian's stall. He heard her approaching and lifted his head from the water bucket. Pushing aside the stall door, she left only the rubber divider between them. She reached out, and sank her fingers into his mane. Somehow, his presence made her feel like she could forget about everything and just be with someone who she could talk to and not feel like they were trying to be cautious around her. As if she were so breakable that if someone said one wrong thing it would shatter her.

Ever since her mother was killed people acted this way. At first she thought they were being sympathetic and trying to let her get over the loss. But, as she came to realize, they really pitied her. They pitied the young, intelligent girl whose mother was murdered by a psychopath. They pitied her because her father had died in a car crash before she was even born. But Clary didn't want pity. She wanted to be treated normal for once. She wanted to forget what happened in her past. She didn't want people whispering about her in small groups at school, and she didn't want the eyes that bore into the back of her skull when she walked through the hallways. All of those looks practically screamed, _her mother was murdered._

Here, with Cas, she could just be. He didn't make her feel like she was a fluffed up pillow. If only she could find a human that would do the same. She held out an apple and Caspian took a large bite, juice dripping out of his mouth. Clary just nibbled at the skin of her own. She was so lost in thought she didn't hear the soft footsteps behind her.

"Got something on your mind?" said a voice.

Clary jumped and spun around. Michael stood with his hands in his pockets, studying her. He wore his usual jeans and a worn sweatshirt. Weirdly, he always knew when something was bothering her. She lied anyways.

"Oh, um, no I'm fine." She could tell he knew she was lying so she looked at the floor instead of his eyes. Thankfully, he didn't push it.

"Well," he said, stepping forward to give Cas a pat on the neck, "we'd better get started with him. I was thinking we'd let him have the reins, see what he can do."

"Sure, sounds good."

Michael nodded and left to go to the tack room for a saddle and bridle.

Clary turned and got a halter off the rack, pulling it up over Caspian's nose and buckling it around his jaw. She led him out and into the large hallway, his hooves clacking on the cement. She tied him to the cross ties and went down the hall to get a brush. Brushing a horse was methodical and was always comforting for her. She let the bristles run smoothly over his sleek black coat.

"I think were gonna be getting a new guest around here," she whispered. Cas turned his ears in her direction. "Yeah, I know, I'm not gonna let him near your stall, I know how you like it cleaned." He nudged her shoulder with his nose and she giggled.

Michael returned with the equipment and helped her put it on him. Once she cinched the girth and gave Cas another pat, she led him out and into the growing sunlight.

It was in the mornings when Clary could truly be thankful for being here. It was so beautiful at this time of the day. The newborn sunlight was just reaching the tops of the trees and the coolness of the night was still there. The horizon was a watercolor painting of reds and oranges. Rays of sunlight filtered through the tall oak trees and landed on the hard-packed dirt walkway. Dew still coated the grass and horses off in the distant pastures munched greedily on it since it was a delicacy they could only enjoy in the early morning. The woods beyond chirped with the sounds of songbirds. But, what she probably liked most of all was the quiet. Sure, there were a few whinnies and pounding of hooves resonating through the barn, but it was calming. Only the mornings were like this since the help came to work around six and made a bunch of noise.

"Remember to keep him close to the rail on the third turn, he doesn't like it but that's what's really gonna cut his time."

Again, Michael's voice broke her reverie. "Yeah, I know," Clary replied as he opened the gate and they stepped out onto the track. She needed to focus on this since race day was only a week away. This was a big race, and there were going to be a lot of big shots that were all vying to be first and win the fifteen thousand dollar purse.

"And your gonna blow them all away," she whispered to Cas as she scratched him on the white strip of hair between his eyes.

Clary turned and checked the girth one more time before putting on her helmet and getting a leg up from Michael. She easily swung her right leg over the saddle. Once she was settled she shortened the reins a bit, moving her hands up his neck. Caspian's ears pricked forward and he knew he was going to run.

Michael shut the gate behind him and went to stand near the white fence that ran around the track. He had his stopwatch in his hand.

"OK Clary," he called. Clary got into position and lifted off the saddle. She looked at the long track ahead of them, and took a deep breath, blowing it out while Caspian danced in excitement. She held him reined in and waited for Michael to call out.

"Go!" Michael said as he clicked the stopwatch. Clary didn't even have to urge Caspian on. He took off like a rocket as soon as Clary gave him rein. His hooves pounded against the earth as his strides grew longer on the first stretch. He easily stayed close to the rail on the first and second turn; he was glued to it. Clary evened him out as they galloped up the long stretch, and nearing the third turn, Clary steered him closer to the rail making sure to not pull back and he responded without losing any speed. After the last turn, Clary gave him a nudge with her boot while she clicked her tongue and squeezed with her calves. His hooves practically gobbled up the last furlong.

Michael clicked the stopwatch again as they passed, marveling at the time. Clary slowed Caspian down to a canter and then to a trot and went once around the track before coming to a stop before Michael.

"Oh my God! He was amazing wasn't he? What was his time?" Clary said breathlessly and patted Caspian's sweaty neck.

"Yeah, a minute forty six. He shaved off almost two seconds from his last time," he smiled. Caspian snorted.

"Wow! You know what? I think he's gonna win. I mean, that's better than Saratoga's times at Willow Springs!"

"Let's hope he wins, there's still a lot more competition that he's up against," he said taking the reins from Clary as she hopped off.

"Good job buddy!" Clary exulted before leaning down and kissing Caspian's nose. She turned to Michael.

"So do we have a jockey yet?" She asked, piqued. This was a sensitive subject for her. Cas was her baby, she had helped deliver him the day he was born. She only wanted the best for him, and since she couldn't be riding him without her jockey's license, she always wanted to know who was going to.

"We hired John Newman yesterday; he was the best out of the jockeys we could afford. Not that he's bad, not at all, we just got a good deal. He's gonna come over around one to take a look at him."

"That's good," Clary said smiling. She turned toward the gate as Michael opened it, leading Cas out. When they reached the barn, Michael left to go tell Luke and Amatis the good news. Meanwhile, Clary decided to give Caspian a bath and led him to the washroom. Once she tied him up and wet him down with the hose, she took the huge bottle of Mane 'N Tail shampoo from the shelf and squeezed a big glob onto a brush. She soaped him up and rinsed him off, getting splashed as he shook his mane.

When she finished she led him back into his stall. She got a pitchfork and cleaned and talked with him. Mucking stalls definitely wasn't her favorite thing to do at the barn, but it had to be done so she'd rather talk to a friend while she did it. She mostly talked about nonsense, and how good his times were, and how Cas was going to beat all their asses on Monday. When she finished, she said goodbye with a last pat and exited the stall. She started on the basic chores around the barn, cleaning tack, mucking stalls, working horses, and giving out hay. She was thankful that there were a lot of other people around to help. If she had been alone trying to do all the work, she'd never get it done.

By eleven-thirty she'd finished her work and headed to the house. All the workers were there tending to the twenty-one horses that called Morningstar home. Some were being walked after an exercise and some were being transported in trailers. She said hello to many of the hands as she walked by, stopping to talk to a few of them about Caspian's time and the new jockey. The workers at Morningstar were like an extension of the family. It was difficult to let go of them when they had to cut back on their spending. She was friends with many of the men even though they all had a good thirty years on her at least. She wondered how the new delinquent was going to fit in.

As she was crossing the yard she heard the crunch of tires on gravel and turned. She saw her uncle's black truck making its way up the long driveway. _Speak of the devil_, she thought. She hoped he wasn't part of some gang. She continued toward the house as the truck grew nearer and crunched to a stop. She heard the doors open and slam shut behind her as she walked. She did not want to talk to this kid. At all. There was no reason for her to speak with him. He was just a disgusting jail bird that was lucky to be here. She had almost made it to the door.

"Clary!" Luke called. Clary sighed. She contemplated ignoring him but decided against it considering Luke would just find another way to introduce him to her. She stopped and took a deep breath before she turned to greet the newest addition to Morningstar Farms.

* * *

_Cliffy :)_

_Any thoughts? Questions?_


	2. Chapter 2

_I was more than a little excited to continue for you guys XD. Read and review pretty please!_

_Belongs to Cassandra Clare, not me._

_

* * *

_

_"Clary!" Luke called. Clary sighed. She contemplated ignoring him but decided against it considering Luke would just find another way to introduce him to her. She stopped and took a deep breath before she turned to greet the newest addition to Morningstar Farms._

As she turned, her eyes focused on Luke first. She could tell he was trying his best to not look worried, but she could still see it in his eyes. He continued walking towards her. To his right, a boy that looked to be around seventeen walked a few feet behind him.

The boy was about six feet tall, give or take an inch or two, and he wore a dark washed pair of jeans with a gray cotton shirt. At the collar, Clary noticed that there was a small dark swirl of ink close to his neck that was cut off by the fabric. Wondering what the tattoo was, she looked at his face and saw that his eyes were almost the exact same shade of gold as his hair.

To say that this boy was not what she had expected would be an understatement. Clary thought she was going to see some scraggly haired kid with big overly buff arms and an 'I hate the world' look to him. This boy had none of that. He actually looked sort of normal. But what shocked her the most was that he was _pretty._ Not in the girly sense, but in the 'beautiful person to look at' sense. The hard planes of his jaw led to well defined cheekbones and those strange but intriguing golden eyes. Clary wished she wasn't dressed in such dirty clothes.

When they stopped in front of her Clary ripped her eyes from the new kid, noticing that she was blatantly staring at him. She hoped he hadn't seen.

"Jon, this is Clarissa Fray, my niece. Clary, this is Jonathan Morgenstern. He's our new guest," Luke said. Jonathan had shuddered a bit when Luke said his name.

"Hey." He gave her a cocky smile as he stepped forward and held his hand out to her. She looked from his face down to where his large hand was extended. He had another tattoo inked in elegant script on the underside of his forearm, but she couldn't quite make out the words from the angle she was at.

She wasn't going to be fooled by this boy. He was like a poisonous flower, beautiful, but dangerous. She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow without extending her own hand. After a few seconds, he dropped his arm and the smile vanished from his face. His brows pulled together in confusion.

Luke cleared his throat in the silence. "Clary, why don't you show him around? I'm sure he would like to take a look at everything." He looked toward Jonathan for confirmation. Jonathan nodded slightly.

Clary gave Luke a pleading look with her eyes as he passed by her and walked towards the house. She suppressed a groan.

"I'm gonna get some lunch," he called over his shoulder as the screen door flapped shut.

She sighed as she turned her head in Jonathan's direction.

"Come on then," she said as she strode towards the barn quickly. He hurried to catch up with her.

"Don't act so enthusiastic, you might break something," he muttered.

She pretended not to hear him as they walked through the large doorway. Clary was glad that there were other people there. It took away from the awkward tension between them.

"OK, so this is the barn," she announced dully. He looked around at the many stalls.

"How many horses are here?" he asked. He stepped forward to one of the stalls.

"Twenty-one, but that changes all the time," she said, watching as he lifted his hand to the nose of the large chestnut that stuck his head over the rubber divider. "That's George."

He smoothed his hand over the horse's neck gently before he turned back to her. "Where am I staying? I take it that I'm not sleeping in the barn?" he said with frustrating cynicism.

Clary bit back a rude retort. He followed her as she walked back out of the barn, turned left, went past the main house, and walked over to the small cabin that was used as a guest house. The wood siding was painted green, but the paint had faded to a dull sage over time. There were a few flowers and bushes that lined the walkway up to the cabin. She hopped up the steps that led to a small porch with a chair in the corner, and opened the creaky wooden door.

She walked in and gestured at the sofa and chairs that surrounded a small fireplace. He walked in after her and reviewed the space, his eyes darting around the room and resting on the various items that were there; the little wooden cow figurines, a 'Home Sweet Home' sign that was placed on the mantle below a large mirror, and the decorative colored bottles that held nothing but air.

"The living room," she said. She walked a few steps to the right and into a small kitchen with a few cabinets, a small refridgerator, and a table with two chairs. "Kitchen." She marched to the back of the cabin where there were two doors, one on the left and the other on the right. He followed close behind her. She opened the right door, revealing the tiny bathroom. "Bathroom," she said shortly. She turned and opened the left door.

"And this is where you're gonna sleep, Jonathan," she tried her best to sound nice as she walked in and gestured to the bed. The bedroom was the largest room in the little house. He leaned against the small doorway.

"Call me Jace."

"Um, is that a nickname? That doesn't sound anything like Jon-"

He cut her off, his eyes hardening. "Yeah, I know it doesn't." He left it at that.

"OK…do you need help with your bags?" It was getting increasing difficult to be pleasant with him.

"No, I'll get them myself."

She took a deep breath. "OK then. See you later." She walked over to him and waited for him to move to let her through the doorway. When he didn't, she huffed and squeezed by him, her shoulder sliding against his arm.

She walked outside wondering why he was such an asshole. They had given him a home for Christ sakes! He certainly wasn't humble about it. If her uncle thought she was going to be all buddy-buddy with someone as ungrateful as him, he was sadly mistaken.

The hot sun beat down on her hair, making it shine a thousand different shades of red. She thought of taking a nice cold shower to get rid of the film of sweat that covered her skin as she wandered over to the house, grumbling under her breath. When she entered, her aunt was washing dishes. Amatis heard her walk in and turned in her direction, her wet hands still in the sink.

"So, did he get settled OK? Do you like him?" she asked cheerfully.

"No. He's a dick." She continued striding towards her room.

"Clarissa!" she said in a chastising tone, spinning around to look at her.

"What?" She turned.

"Don't talk like that." She paused. "Why would you say something like that anyway?" She turned back to the sink and continued her washing.

Clary plopped herself into a chair and sighed, smoothing back the bits of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. "Because he is as ungrateful as anyone could possibly be."

"Well, maybe he's just shy. This is a new place for him."

"Oh no, he's definitely not shy."

Amatis put the last dish on the rack, drying her hands with a towel. She pulled out a chair and sat across from her.

"Please, just try your best to make him feel welcome," she said, placing her hand on top of Clary's. She opened her mouth to say more but she thought better of it, remembering her display that morning. Amatis looked her straight in the eyes. "Please?"

"I'll try," she exhaled noisily.

"Good." Amatis patted her hand softly.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." She pushed the chair back, the wooden legs grating against the tile floors. She walked to her room leaving Amatis at the table.

When she reached the bathroom she pulled the hair tie from her ponytail. It got stuck about halfway down and she pulled viciously, her eyes watering as the tie came loose. She turned the shower on cold. Quickly, she peeled off her dirty clothing and stepped under the chilly spray. Instantly, the uncomfortable heat left her body and she felt refreshed. She reached for the bottle of conditioner and used quite a bit more than she usually would; her hair was extremely frizzy today.

After she had finished, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of the large light blue towels from the rack. She used another towel as a turban on her head as she walked back into her room. Moving to the dresser, she pulled out an outfit that was practically the same as what she wore before, and pulled it on. She went back to the bathroom and dried her hair one last time before she parted it down the middle and braided both sides. She looked at herself in the mirror. _Maybe that'll fix it, _she thought. She had never worn her hair that way before and she thought she looked about ten years old.

It was almost one when she left her bedroom. _The new jockey is coming to look at Caspian soon,_ she remembered. She ran out of the house and over to the barn, where she found Michael talking to who she suspected was John Newman.

"Here she is," Michael said as Clary approached.

"Hi, Mr. Newman," she greeted him. He was short, about the same height as Clary. For once she didn't have to look up to talk to someone.

"Hello, Clary. Michael's been tellin' me a lot about you. You got Caspian here to do a minute forty six this morning?" he asked, interested.

"Yeah, but it was all him," she smiled, scratching Caspian's neck. "I can't take the credit."

"Well, I'd love to see how this guy moves. D'you think you can show me?" Clary was caught off guard. She thought that John was going to do the riding.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she replied.

The four of them walked to the track, Michael and John ahead of her and Cas. She looked to her left and saw Jace opening Luke's truck and pulling out a modest black duffel bag. Clary wondered if all he had was in the small bag, and felt a little bad. She remembered the first day that she had come Morningstar.

She got out on the track, got a leg up from Michael, and headed over to the small starting gate that one of the workers had wheeled in. "Do just what you did this morning, Clary," he said quietly, and Clary nodded. Michael helped to lead Caspian into one of the two confined spaces and closed the metal doors behind them with a clang. He went to the edge of the gate and grasped the pulley that was used to open the metal doors in front. Clary lifted off the saddle and tightened her grip on the reins as Cas snorted. She nodded in Michael's direction, silently telling him to pull the cord.

The gate opened with a deafening bang and Caspian shot out. Again, his powerful legs rocketed them towards the first turn and before she even knew it they were sprinting up the last stretch. "Come on Cas!" Clary laughed with euphoria as his stride grew longer on the last few lengths.

She slowed him down to a canter and gave him a large pat on the neck. She looked in the direction of Luke's car again and saw Jace standing with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder lazily, watching her. She blushed, heat creeping onto her cheeks. Riding towards Michael and Mr. Newman, she stopped at the fence where they stood. Clary hoped they would think her red face was from the ride as she swung herself onto the ground.

"Wow, he's one heck of a horse!" John said. "Have you ever thought about getting a license?"

"Uh, not really," she laughed. "Not seriously, at least."

"You could have a future in racing, my dear; your form was as good as any trained jockey."

"Thank you." She blushed again, thinking about her _form_ when riding. She turned to Michael and asked for their time.

"A minute forty-four point five," he said. Pride was evident on his face. "It looks like he does even better with a crowd."

"Over a second?" Clary breathed, astonished. Michael showed her the stopwatch in his hand with a smile.

"Oh my God!" she squealed, as she jumped up to hug Michael around the neck. She had a wide grin plastered to her face when she turned to look for Jace again, but he was gone. Her smile faded and she turned back to John and Michael. They were talking animatedly about the different competition Caspian was up against. Clary excused herself, telling them was going to walk Caspian back into the barn. She left them by the track.

She set off, thinking about Jace. She had no idea how to handle someone like him. She wasn't used to the brooding and sarcastic type. She thought about what her aunt said. _Maybe I could invite him to dinner at the house? Would he even agree to that?_ She took off Caspian's bridle and switched it with a halter, tying him up to the cross ties. She quickly put away his equipment and brushed him. Leading him back into the stall, she saw Simon walk by.

"Simon!" she called. Simon was her best friend and the son of Matthew Lewis, one of their closest family friends. Simon was supposed to be on vacation with his family in Michigan, visiting his grandparents. Clary rushed to close the stall door behind her.

"Hey," he said, sunlight glinting off of his glasses. He looked taller than the last time she had seen him. Then again, the last time she saw him was in the beginning of the summer and now it was nearly the end of August.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, giving him a tight hug. "Jeesh, I haven't seen you in forever!" She stepped back.

"Yeah I know, I just got back this morning. My stupid manager at Universal Comics said he gave my job to someone else because he didn't know I was leaving for the summer, even though I _told_ him I was going on vacation." He grumbled. "Two weeks in advance, I might add. Anyway, here I am, shoveling horse crap for money…again."

Clary laughed. She had missed not seeing him on a daily basis. Last summer, he had weaseled his way out of the family vacation and instead he had stayed in the guest house. She remembered long summer days and camping out in the woods with a bunch of comics.

They walked out of the barn talking about his vacation. Evidently, it wasn't all that eventful. The conversation drifted to the ranch and how they had to lay off some of the workers. "Hey, did you hear we have a criminal on the property?" she asked.

"What?" he said, snapping his head toward her.

"Yep, he's living in the guest house."

"So, what did he do? Kill someone?" Clary's face darkened as she shifted her eyes to the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry Clary," he said quietly.

"No, no it's fine," she insisted. "He assaulted someone."

"Are you alright?"

She looked up and into his wide brown eyes. She knew he meant well, but she really didn't want to talk about something that was going to bring her down. Just fifteen minutes ago she was jumping up and down with happiness.

"Yeah," she said evasively. "But this new kid is a real jerk."

"Huh, let me guess. He's a scraggly haired buff guy that looks about twenty?"

She gave a half-hearted laugh. "Surprisingly, no. He looks completely normal." _Normal as in b__eautiful,_ her mind corrected her. "My aunt asked me to make him feel welcome here. I was thinking about asking him if he wanted to have dinner with us. Do you want to come too?"

"Sure, I mean how often d'you get to have dinner with a convict?"

""""""""

After talking for a while longer and eating lunch together in the barn, Simon left to get back to work and Clary went to the guest house. She knocked hesitantly on the door and waited. No one answered, so she lifted her hand to knock again.

"He's not in there."

Clary whirled around, startled. She nearly fell into Jace when she turned. He was standing right behind her on the porch. He hadn't made any noise, which was quite a feat considering the entire porch creaked.

"Jesus! You scared me," she said as she stepped back from him, her back pressing into the siding. He shrugged.

"What are you, like a ninja or something?" she asked angrily.

"Somewhere along those lines."

She couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. She bit her lip nervously.

"Do you need something?" he asked, his eyes moving to the door and back to her.

"Um, no. I… I was going to ask you if you wanted to have dinner with us at the house." He stared at her. "I mean, it's OK if you don't want to. I don't know if I'd want to have dinner with a bunch of people that I don't know, in a place that I've never been before. I mean, who would, right?" She was rambling. She bit her tongue in an attempt to stop looking like such an idiot.

He laughed, and she was surprised to realize that she liked the sound.

"Do you get this nervous around every good looking guy you meet, or is it just me?" he asked, laughing some more. Clary scowled.

"Look, if you want to have dinner with us come to the house around six," she said, with petulance in her tone. She moved around him and started walking to the steps when his hand closed around her wrist lightly.

"Wait," he said, no longer laughing. She turned slowly, tensing a bit at his touch. She looked up at him as his tousled golden hair fell into his eyes. He left his hand on her wrist.

"I would like to have dinner with you, thank you for asking me," he said, looking into her eyes. She blushed at his intensity and looked down.

"Good. I'll see you at dinner then." Her eyes moved to where his hand still rested on her wrist. As if he just realized that it was still there, he pulled his hand back.

"I'll see you."

Her mind spun out, trying to understand what had just happened. She was confused at how he could be so callous to her one second and then staring so intensely at her the next. Clary wondered if everyone who left jail acted that way. It was like a flip of a switch could change his mood, and that scared her. She didn't want to be anywhere near him if one of his quick mood changes resulted in anger.

Clary went to the house and told her aunt that she invited Simon and Jace to dinner. Amatis immediately looked eager.

"Oh! I'm just going to have to make more then," she said, looking at the pan of Luke's chili that was simmering on the stove. "I had better get started!"

She left her aunt scuttling around the kitchen and went back to the barn. She stood in front of Caspian's stall and he picked his head up, walking over to her.

"Hey, Cas," she said quietly. She sat on the hay bale that was just outside of his stall and watched as he brought his head out, sniffing the hay and taking a large bite. As he chewed, Clary wondered if she really could get her jockey's license. She would have to get permission from both her aunt and her uncle considering that she was still only sixteen. Clary loved riding, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to be thrust into the middle of the horse racing world. The thought of her actually being a jockey was more of a distant dream.

Her thoughts shifted to Jace as she sat with Caspian, thinking about everything that he said and trying to make sense of him. While plucking at a piece of straw, she heard Luke calling her. She stood and looked at the clock. It was almost six. Throwing the straw aside, she went outside and saw Luke walking in her direction.

"You invited him to dinner?" he asked. "That was nice of you."

"Yeah, I figured he would want a good home cooked meal after eating bread and butter for so long," she said.

"Well, I'm glad you've warmed up to him." Clary let him believe that, she didn't want to tell him that she was not warming up to him. Not by a long shot.

"Come on," he said, as they walked to the house. Clary had thought that they were going to have the same kind of dinner as always; small and cozy. That was nothing like the show she saw when she walked in. There was plate upon plate of different dishes. Her aunt's special garlic mashed potatoes, a pot of green beans smothered with caramelized onions, a large salad with every kind of lettuce, seven baked sweet potatoes, spaghetti with a pesto sauce, a pasta salad, and the pan of Luke's chili that looked very small compared to everything else. But in the center of it all was a large pork roast with a garnish of parsley. All of it was placed neatly on the dining room table, which they never used except for on birthdays and holidays. The scene looked like something you would see on the food network.

Amatis walked to the table and placed a basket of warm bread next to the pork, smoothing her hands over table cloth to get rid of the wrinkles.

"There," she said triumphantly as she looked over her work.

"It looks great," Clary said, still in a bit of shock.

"Let's hope it tastes great too," Amatis added.

There was a knock at the door, and Clary went to answer it. Swinging the door open, she found a very annoyed looking Simon glaring at Jace who was sporting a smug grin. They both turned to look at her when the door opened.

"What's going on?" she asked, glancing between the two boys suspiciously.

Jace recovered his composure first. "Nothing, I'm just getting to know your little friend. He's very…" Jace paused, looking for a word. "Touchy."

Simon scoffed, "Yeah, OK and-"

"Stop," she interrupted. "Just come inside."

Simon glowered at her before he walked in first, and Clary gave Jace a frown before she turned to follow him. There were a few exchanged 'hello's' and 'how are you's' before everyone sat down and started filling their plates. It was quiet except for the clattering of silverware.

"So, Jace, how do you like the cabin? Do you have everything you need?" Amatis broke the silence in a motherly tone.

Jace put his fork down and Clary noticed that he was left handed. "It's great, I like the décor," he smirked at Clary. "And no, I think I've got everything, thank you."

"Good," Amatis smiled. Jace's attitude confused her. He was so well behaved in front of her aunt and uncle. It was the opposite of the cocky attitude he had towards her, and aparently, Simon. His personality was so hot and cold that it left Clary wondering just were his mind really was. And that was not a good thing for someone who had just gotten out of jail.

The conversation flowed freely from then on. Her aunt and uncle seemed to like talking to Jace. From their perspective he could even be considered _charming._ Although, Clary did notice that Simon wasn't talking to Jace at all. Obviously, something had happened outside between the two of them. But she couldn't blame Simon for not liking him, considering she didn't either. Clary couldn't stand that he wasn't even there one day and he was already making enemies.

"How was the meeting with John Newman?" Luke asked. Clary hadn't noticed that the conversation had focused on her.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"The meeting with John Newman?" her uncle prompted.

"Oh, um, it was good. He's definitely interested in Cas," she answered. "I ended up riding for him and, uh, he asked me if I had jockey's license."

"Did he? Well, you must've shown him a pretty good ride," Amatis added.

"I guess. I mean, I did the same thing that I did this morning." She looked at her food.

"I think you'd make an awesome jockey," Simon chimed in. "You'd kick ass!"

Clary laughed, and peeked at Jace when Simon started talking about racing asses. He was chuckling under his breath as he shook his head over his plate. His eyes were warmer now, as if the gold in them had melted when he was having fun. She noticed that he had a slight bump on the bridge of his nose, as if he he'd broken it once and it never healed correctly. He began to talk, and Clary watched the way his jaw moved.

He turned his head in her direction, feeling her eyes on him. She snapped her head down to her plate and stabbed a green bean, shoving it into her mouth hastily. Clary saw him smirk at her from the corner of her eye before he turned and immersed himself into the conversation once more.

When everyone was full, Amatis rushed to start putting the dishes away and everyone stood up to help out. Luke, Amatis and Simon were over at the sink washing and drying dishes while Clary and Jace were taking plates from the table and over to them. As Clary reached for the empty pan that the sweet potatoes had been in, Jace was reaching for the bowl of green beans. His hand brushed against her arm, and raised goosebumps on her skin. She wasn't sure if the contact had been intentional, so she acted as if it hadn't happened. Turning back to the kitchen, she could have sworn that he watched her leave.

Once everything was cleaned, both Simon and Jace left to their respective houses. Yawning, Clary shuffled to her room. It was already dark outside and she could hear the chirping of the crickets outside her open window. She brushed her teeth in the dark; she didn't bother turning on the lamp. The moonlight lit the bathroom enough. She undressed and put on a large t-shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. She slowly peeled back the covers on her bed and slid underneath the soft, quilted fabric. Her eyes drifted shut and she was asleep within seconds.

_

* * *

_

What did ya think?


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you! I wasn't too sure what the reaction to this story was going to be like, but you guys are the best! :D Here's the next chapter…_

_Sadly, I am not Cassandra Clare. _

* * *

She wakes up to the noise of yelling, and peeks through the crack of a half open door. A woman stands in a hallway with her back to her, as she lifts her hands in a pacifying gesture. In front of her stands a tall man brandishing a knife, his face contorted with rage, as he looks down at the woman with disgust.

"No, please. You must unders-"

"No, you need to understand Jocelyn!" the man cuts her off. He is practically shaking with fury. "You should _never_ have told him!"

"I couldn't keep lying to him either! He could see something was wrong!" Her voice breaks in fright.

"I paid you to lie, you bitch!" A slap cracks across her face. His voice lowers. "I never told you what would happen if you crossed me because I didn't think it would come to this, but you're a fool if you thought that you could just run and I wouldn't find you."

"I didn't-"

Suddenly, he has her by the neck and he shoves her against the wall with a crash. "Don't. Lie. To me." He brings the knife to her throat, the blades polished edge biting at her skin and glinting in the dim light.

"Valentine, please!" she chokes out. Her eyes find the girl watching from behind the door. As her mouth opens to yell for her to run, the cold metal slices through her throat, cutting off her scream.

Her view changes. Somehow, she is watching herself watch her mother die. Over and over, the scene continues for what seems like hours. Each time she can't move, she can't even scream. She can do nothing but stand and watch, over, and over, and over...

Clary jolted up in her bed, her breath coming out in jagged gasps. Her body trembled from the force of her nightmare. It was the strongest one she'd had in years; it had felt like she really had been there again. Hot tears flowed from her eyes as she struggled to get a grip onto reality. She held her head in her hands and curled her legs up as she rocked back and forth, sobbing.

Every time she had the dream, she never knew what her mother and the man were talking about. She didn't even know the man. Clary had no idea what her mother had told this person, but whatever it was, it had been enough to kill over. It bothered her that she didn't know why her mother was killed. But, what bothered her most of all was that she hadn't done anything. She wished that she had been strong enough to fight the man off, to protect her mother. Instead she had stood, paralyzed with fear. She tried to push her past behind her, to forget about the immense guilt that weighed her down daily for not doing something. Although, that only seemed to get harder as her life got easier.

Every day, she thought about what would have happened if she had tried to help her mother. About what would've happened if she had stepped out from behind that goddamned door. Would she have been killed also? Was that better than living on, knowing that she could have done something to save her?

Scrubbing a shaking hand over her face, she looked over at her alarm clock. It was four in the morning on a Saturday, and the sun wasn't even close to rising yet. Everyone would be sleeping in today, but she couldn't fall back asleep after such a horrible nightmare. So, she slowly got out of her bed and walked down the hallway on weak legs.

She entered the kitchen and dragged her feet over to the coffeemaker. She poured herself a large cup and took a sip, not minding the burn as it traveled down her throat. She walked outside, hoping that the brisk air would clear her head, and stayed on the front deck. She curled up on one of the chairs that sat there. Cupping the mug in her hands, she used the heat to warm her hands and watched the dawn approach.

Clary looked towards the long driveway covered under a canopy of trees. It was even barely daybreak, but she could just make out the outline of someone running up the drive. She watched as the person grew closer, and when they emerged from the shaded area, Clary realized it was Jace. She stared; she hadn't pinned him as a runner.

What she realized second was that he wore black shorts that hung low on his hips and nothing else. His muscled chest was bare, and it shone with sweat. She could see that he had more tattoos than she'd first thought. There was a large indigo colored one on his left side near his ribs, which seemed to fade into his skin on the edges. The black round one, encircling his right shoulder, covered some of his collarbone. She guessed that it was the one that she had seen beneath his t-shirt.

He passed the house and Clary ducked, not wanting to be caught gawking at him shirtless. She peeked over the railing and watched him continue to the cabin, liking the way that the muscles in his shoulders and back rippled. When he reached the porch off the cabin, he slowed to a walk and dumped the contents of his water bottle on his head. His hair fell into his eyes, causing rivulets of water to run down his face and onto his torso.

_What the hell, Clary,_ coherent thoughts interrupted her ogle-fest. _Stop drooling. _She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts as he sat on the stairs, breathing heavily.

Slowly, she stood up from her chair and tip-toed back into the house. She closed the door behind her and heaved a sigh. _My God_, she thought. _How can someone so unattractive be so attractive? _

She heard a door open and shut. Amatis walked into the room and took in Clary's expression.

"What are you doing up, Clary?" she asked. Amatis looked extremely tired. Her eyes had bags beneath them and her skin looked sallow, but she worked to make her voice sound normal. It looked like they both had had a bad night.

Ignoring her question, Clary asked one of her own. "Is everything alright?" Amatis turned from her and went to a cabinet in the kitchen, reaching for a mug.

"Amatis? I can take it, just tell me. You don't need to sugarcoat anything."

She looked at her, her face crumpling from the careful mask she wore, and sighed. "Sit down, Clary." They both sat at the table.

"You know that we are having some money problems."Clary nodded slowly. "It's just that, if we don't find some way of getting money soon then…" she paused.

"Then what?" Clary asked, but she already knew the answer.

"Then we're going to have to sell the farm. We've already cut back on so much that there's just nothing left to go on if we don't have the money."

"But Cas is going to win on Monday, and then we'll be fine," she said determinedly.

"Clary, sweetie, I know you believe in him but there's a possibility he won't. Even if he did, the fifteen thousand dollars probably won't be enough." She looked down, defeated.

Her heart sank. What would she do if they sold the farm? This place was what had gotten her over an extremely hard time in her life. She'd relied on Morningstar, and to just sell the place felt so wrong.

"We might even have to sell him if he wins," Amatis continued.

"What? No! You can't do that!" Clary said angrily.

"Honey, there's no other way. He would sell for a lot more if he wins, plus he's young so we could set the price even higher." She was about to protest but Amatis interrupted her. "I'm just telling you so that you know what could happen. I know how much he means to you, believe me I do, but you need to know the truth about our situation."

She dropped her head into her hands, and Clary stared at her in disbelief. She couldn't imagine selling Cas. He was one of her best friends. She realized that they were in debt, and that they had been there for a while, but he had such a promising career.

"But he could be worth it if we keep him! We could sell a few more horses, I mean, Lancaster is old and he could be really good for someone learning to ride."

"Clary. We'd have to sell a lot more horses to cover the expenses."

Clary's eyes brimmed with frustrated tears. "Cas is worth it. If you can't see that then… You're making a wrong decision."

She got up and strode to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She flopped onto her bed and screamed into a pillow. _She never used to be so focused on money, _she thought. _She used to believe._ She remembered before they had fallen into debt, remembered how hopeful she and Luke always were. It had been so happy back then, but needing money has changed that. Now, it's always strained.

Even though they were in a hard situation, they should never have stopped being optimistic. That belief that things could change was what got them places, and if they stopped now, it certainly wouldn't help anything. Before her mom had died, she always told her to go with her gut. No matter what. Clary knew that her gut was telling her the truth.

She stood up and got dressed quickly, pulling on her beat up boots. Passing Amatis in the kitchen without a word, she went outside. It was nearly seven, and everyone was there. She could see Michael working with Caspian and John at the track, and hay being loaded into the hay loft from a huge truck. She went over to help unload the cargo.

"Hello Clary," said Greg, a brawny man with wide shoulders. She smiled at him and reached for a bale. Often time's people underestimated her strength due to her size, but she kept pace with Greg easily.

After a few hours, they finished and she moved onto mucking stalls. She walked over to Caspian's stall and stopped dead. Every hand knew that she cleaned this stall. Evidently none of them had told Jace, considering he was cleaning it.

"What are you doing?"she asked. He looked up at her, surprised.

"My job," he said, as if it were obvious. "What are you doing?"

"I'm wondering what you're doing cleaning my stall."

"Oh! I hadn't realized you liked to live out in the barn. Would you like to clean it yourself?" He held the pitchfork out to her.

She huffed. "Yeah, actually, I would." Snatching it out of his hands, she glared at him. He stepped back and watched her as she scooped up a pitchfork full of dirty shavings, and thrust it into the wheelbarrow.

"What?" she asked, irritated.

"Nothing." He turned and left.

_He's so fucking weird. _She finished cleaning the stall quickly; he had already done most of the work. She dumped the wheelbarrow in the large manure pile and went back to find a horse to ride.

Since Caspian was being ridden by John, she decided to take Kaleidoscope, a tall mare with a dappled gray coat. She brushed her down and picked her hooves clean before she went to the tack room to get a saddle, blanket and bridle. As she was walking in, she saw Luke at the desk in the corner rifling through the drawers.

"Oh, Clary, there you are," he said, looking up.

"Hi," she said as she reached for one of the heavy western style saddles that hung on the rack.

"Do you think you could teach Jace to ride?" Luke asked. "He's the only one here who doesn't know how, and he's been working like a dog since five. He needs a break."

"Uh, no." She went to the door.

"Why not?"

Clary turned back reluctantly. "I don't think he wants to learn."

"He doesn't want to learn, or you don't want to teach him?" he eyed her suspiciously.

"A little of both, actually," she sighed, shifting the saddle's weight onto her hip.

"Please, just teach him. It's safer for him to know at least the basics," he said logically.

"Ugh, fine." She walked out the door and heaved the saddle and the blanket onto Kaleidoscopes back. "Wait here," she said to the mare, patting her neck. She went down the wide hallway hoping to find Jace in one of the stalls.

When she didn't, she left the barn and looked for him near the pastures. Looking down the long white fence, she saw him filling a bucket of water. She walked up to him.

"Luke wants me to teach you to ride," she said bluntly.

"Do _you_ want to teach me?" he asked with skepticism.

"That doesn't matter," she countered. "It's safer for you to know how anyways."

"OK." He took off his gloves and slid them into his back pocket. "When?"

"Right now, I guess."

A flash of uncertainty passed his features, and he crinkled his brows together. "I'm working."

"Yeah, well, Luke thinks you need a break."

"OK, let's go then." They started walking, side by side, towards the barn again. Clary hoped he would at least have some kind of horse sense. She didn't want to be scraping him up every time he fell off.

When they entered, he saw Kaleidoscope standing like a large gray giant in front of him. She snorted, reaching her head out to nuzzle his hand. He jumped back in fear.

"Holy shit! I'm not riding him am I?" Clary laughed at his worried expression.

"First off, he is a she. And no, you're gonna be on Lancaster, over there." She pointed to a mousy brown male a few stalls over. His eyes followed her hand and came to rest on the short and stout pony.

"Him? But he's a…"

"He's a what?"

"A pony."

"Yes, he is. And you're riding him because you're a beginner," she said purposefully.

"The other guys are gonna give me hell for this," he muttered, as she helped him get Lancaster out of the stall and tack him up.

"You have to remember to tighten the girth. If you don't, you and the saddle will fall off." He watched her quietly as she tightened it for him. She showed him how to put the bridle on and once that was done, she handed him the reins.

"Wait a sec," she said to him as she went to Kaleidoscope. She finished tacking her up in half the time, her fingers flying over the many buckles and loops.

"OK, just lead him out behind me, alright?" She looked over her shoulder at Jace, who wore an apprehensive expression. She started towards and empty dirt paddock to the right. Opening the gate, she led Kaleidoscope in and held it open as Jace and Lancaster followed. She shut the gate and loosely tied the reins to the fence before she walked over to him.

"So, Lancaster is pretty chill. He'll do whatever you tell him." She gave Lancaster a pat and turned to him. "You ready?"He nodded silently.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were scared, Morgenstern." Clary joked.

"No, I'm not," he said unconvincingly.

"Well, you need to relax before we do anything. You're gonna faint if you keep holding your breath like that."

He squared his shoulders and stood a little taller. "Men do not _faint._"

"Whatever," Clary said, laughing quietly as she checked the girth one more time. "Here's your helmet."

He gave her a sour face, but after some persuasian he put it on and clicked the buckle around his chin.

"Come over to his left side," she said, leading him over. "Now, hold onto the reins and horn with this hand," she picked up his warm hand and wrapped it around the horn. "Rest your other hand over…here on the back of the saddle." She took his other hand and put it on the cantle. By now, they were standing very close to one another. His chest pressed into her back, warm and firm through his thin t-shirt. She could feel his breath tickling the little hairs on the back of her neck. Realizing how close she was to him, she blushed and ducked back under his arm.

She cleared her throat. "Um, so put your left leg into the stirrup and just pull yourself up." He did, swinging his leg over the saddle simply. She looked up at him and fought back a smile. He looked silly with his long legs dangling in the stirrups several inches below Lancaster's belly.

"Quit laughing," he said, with a smile of his own.

"I'm not laughing," she chuckled.

"Just teach, will you? I already feel ridiculous."

"Hold on, I got to shorten those stirrups." She finished and stepped back, pleased to see that his legs were no longer dangling as much.

"OK, squeeze with your calves a bit and he'll start moving." They started walking slowly. "Good. Now, say you want to turn right. You don't just yank the reins. You got to push in with your right calf and pull-" They turned easily. "Yep. Stopping is easy, just pull up on the reins a little and sit deeper."

Jace stopped and looked over at her with a smirk. "How am I doing Miss Fray?"

"You're doing fine, Jace." She rolled her eyes. Actually, he was doing better than she'd thought. She was expecting him to look like a fish out of water, but he looked good. _Really good, _she thought.

They started walking again. "Just give him a little kick with your boot and he'll start trotting." They trotted and, with her instruction, they cantered around the ring twice.

"You've done this before," she accused when they came to a halt in front of her.

"Nope, I'm just naturally good at everything."

She rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, right. Do you want to go out on the trails with me for a bit?" She motioned to Kaleidoscope.

He hesitated. "Thanks but no. I gotta get back to work," he said, hopping off.

She tried to hide her disappointment as Jace reopened the gate. She walked over to the mare, and untied her from the fence. Jace let her pass him as she walked out of the paddock.

"You sure?" she said, working to sound nonchalant. "I don't think Luke would mind." She looked over her shoulder. He seemed to be thinking it over in his head as he walked Lancaster up to be beside her.

"How 'bout after I finish?" He looked over at her with a wide grin. "That is, if you can wait that long."

_So much for nonchalance, _she thought. "Oh, I think I'll be able to," she said, slightly miffed.

He chuckled softly as he took the saddle off the gelding easily. She did the same, and they both took the horses back to their stalls. He left to get back to work and Cary walked into the house, trying to escape the blistering heat. It was much cooler indoors even though they didn't have air conditioning. She didn't know how he stood the heat, being out there working all day. She walked to her room.

For some reason she had a sudden urge to draw, and she hadn't drawn in years. She searched for her pad of paper within her desk and found it buried underneath several layers of pens and pencils. She plucked a pencil from the desk at random and jumped onto her bed, lying on her stomach. She started drawing three dimensional shapes and shading in the areas where she imagined an invisible light couldn't reach. Her shapes shifted into arms, then legs and a torso. She drew his face last, drawing him smiling with his white teeth and his shining hair in the midday sun, all in shades of gray. She lingered on the small details, like how he had two little dimples on his cheeks when he smiled, and the natural highlights in his hair. Not until she finished and she looked at the entire picture, did she realize she drew Jace.

She'd perfected the planes of his jaw, the way his hair moved with the hot breeze, and even the little glint in his eyes when he teased her. She drew his face again, this time giving him the 'rebel' look that she saw when he had first arrived at Morningstar. She drew from her memory, as she fixed the bit of the tattoo she had seen beneath his shirt that day. When she finished, she smiled at her work and closed the pad of paper, setting it on her night table. Looking out her window, she saw Jace approaching the house.

_He can't be done already,_ she thought. But, glancing at the time, she saw that she had spent three hours drawing. With foolish excitement, she jumped out of her bed and ran to her mirror to check her hair. It looked fairly tame, but she smoothed it down anyways out of nervous habit. She heard him knock on the door and she ran to open it.

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding dry.

"Hey, are you thirsty? We have lemonade," she offered.

"That sounds great, actually."

"Come in." She held the door open for him as he ambled past her and into the kitchen. She got a glass and filled it to the brim sliding it to him over the table top. He sat gratefully and took a gulp of the sweet liquid, looking up at her over the glass. Clary blushed, and mentally chastised herself for being so silly as she looked down.

"Thanks," he said lifting the empty glass slightly.

"No problem." Taking the glass from him and putting it in the sink she said, "Do you still want to go out?" She realized what her question sounded like and blushed again fiercely.

He watched the red paint her cheeks as he grinned. "Yeah, sure let's go."

They left the house, Jace with his hands in his pockets and Clary trying not to look at him. They crossed the threshold and Jace turned to her.

"So, Miss Fray, do you think I have graduated from the pony class?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I do. Pick whoever you want." She didn't know if she was just getting used to his antics or if he was acting less asshole-ish, but either way, she could actually tolerate him now. He stepped up a stall.

"I think I'll go with George here, considering we've already bonded and all."

"You met him once," she pointed out.

"So?" He looked at her seriously.

"Just saying," she shrugged as she moved to Caspian's stall. She figured he would like a nice leisurely stroll though the woods after working this morning. "How are you, buddy?" she said softly, caressing his soft nose. He bumped her hand and sniffed her pocket. "You want a treat?" she asked as she pulled out a mint. The wrapper crinkled, making his ears prick forward. She held out her hand and he crunched the treat with his teeth. "Good boy," she cooed as she scratched him between his eyes.

She grabbed a halter and fastened the buckle around his face before she led him out into the hallway. She put him on the cross ties and looked over at Jace, who was watching her intently.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said leading George out.

She wondered why he always said that when there was obviously something he was thinking. It irked her that he always played it like he wasn't thinking anything. She wondered if, on their ride, he would answer some of her questions. She wanted to know more about his past, like how he got arrested and what made him want to come live at Morningstar. They tacked up their horses and walked outside as Clary went over what she wanted to ask him in her head.

Using one of the lower boards of the fence, Clary mounted Cas. Jace was tall and strong enough to get up on his own. They started walking in the direction of the woods.

"So where are we going exactly?" he asked quickly.

She thought of the lake that was a few miles out. It was very calm there, with the sound of the little brook that fed the lake. It was one of her favorite places to think.

"I think I have and idea," she said as she urged Caspian into a trot as Jace followed, still wondering where the hell they were going.

* * *

_Reviews are better than a shirtless Jace after a run ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

_OK. Now, you may be wondering why I changed the rating. Well, I have decided (after much deliberation… I hadn't even decided before I started, hence the question mark in the summary) that the romance aspect of this fic will stay in the "makeout session" area. I feel that (mature) teenagers can handle this and the story's plot. To all of you who are disappointed, I am sorry. Also, just so you know, I have BIG plans for this fic. Like beyond gigantically hugetastic. I don't even know if I'll be able to put everything I want to in here. (I probably should've said that in the first chapter…) So, my eenie teenie little fan base, I hope you all stay for the ride 'cause it's going to get crazy ;D _

_Anyway, pretty please with sugar and a shirtless Jace on top… review!_

_This still doesn't belong to me._

* * *

The farm grew smaller behind them as they galloped in the direction of the woods. The sound of pounding hooves echoed through her ears and the sheer speed and happiness that she felt elated her. She loved this. It felt as if she were flying, as if she was nothing more than the wind that rushed by her cheeks and caused them to stain a light shade of red. She was aware of everything, like the fields of the tall grasses, the mountains in the distance, and the large sugar pines that whizzed by her, all standing out with perfect clarity. The wind whipping her face nearly brought tears to her eyes, but she kept them wide open, not wanting to miss a second of the beautiful southern California views before her. She breathed in a deep gulp of fresh air. Clary could easily forget that Jace was galloping far behind her, and go on like this forever. But realizing that she was probably very far ahead of him, she looked behind her to see him and George quite a ways after her. Turning back, she slowed Caspian to a walk again and waited for Jace to catch up.

She heard the strikes of hooves against hard earth as he galloped toward her. Looking behind her again, she saw him with his tawny hair mussed and whipping around his face as he grinned widely at her, flashing a set of brilliantly white teeth against his golden tanned skin. She smiled involuntarily. He slowed down and kept pace with her as she turned her head forward once more.

"That is.._."_ He breathed heavily and his eyes danced with excitement.

"I know," she answered, knowing the feeling.

"You're so lucky to live here," he said, swiveling his head to look in the direction of the mountains. "It looks like a freakin' postcard."

She laughed effortlessly, already giddy with exhilaration. "You live here too, you know."

He looked at her pointedly. "Yeah, well I'm still not the one that knows where we're going."

"It's not far from here," she replied vaguely as she maneuvered Caspian around a sugar pine.

"So you're not going to tell me where we're going?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p'.

He chuckled softly at her response, and Clary snuck a quick peek at him. Again, his eyes crinkled and the gold in them had melted. His face was framed with a disarray of shining blonde hair.

She looked away and eased Caspian into a trot with Jace following close beside her. The heavy sound that the saddles made as they brushed against the horses bodies was the only noise they heard for about a half hour before they emerged from the thicket of the trees and bushes, and saw a small clearing. Trees surrounded the area, making it feel like an enclosed room except for the wide expanse of the lake across the clearing that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. The tall grasses swayed with the small breeze and made a soft rustling noise as the blades swept across one another.

"Here we are," she said as she dismounted, tethering the reins to a fallen tree stump, and letting Caspian rest after the ride. She heard Jace do the same and follow her as she walked towards the waters rocky edge with the grasses swiftly brushing against her denim clad legs.

Her boots found the coarse gravel near the water and she stopped, enjoying the view again. She used to come here often with Simon last summer to swim in the lake on hot days and to just hang out. There wasn't much to actually do in the small town of Bonsall, California, so the lake was the only place that they had frequented.

"How did you find this place?" he asked. They had been riding for a long time and the trail to get there wasn't all that easy to follow.

"Simon and I explored a lot last summer, and we kind of just happened across it," she answered, looking past the lake to the high mountains behind it. "I'm pretty sure this is part of Lake Berryessa."

"Huh. So is he your boyfriend something?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and she came up short of an answer. He looked at her expectantly. "He's very protective of you so…"

"I… um, no. We're just friends." She looked at the ground and shuffled her feet uncomfortably. _How can he think that he's protective? He's only met him once. _

"That's interesting," he said, sounding anything but interested. He looked out at the lake again.

"Why would you say that?" she asked, still staring at an incredibly fascinating pebble next to her boot.

"No reason."

She sighed and looked up at him. "OK, cut the shit. Why don't you two like each other?"

"I'm fine with him. He's the one that doesn't like me." He gestured to his chest.

"Well, you must have done something. Simon doesn't go around hating people. That's not like him."

He didn't answer her. Whether that was because he didn't have an answer, or if he just didn't want to reply was beyond her. She kicked the pebble and it broke the water's calm with a soft splash. Walking away from him, she sat on a large boulder to her left. The stone was warm against her hands as she rested them by her thighs. She could feel the heat of the sun starting to burn her pale skin; she had forgotten to wear sunscreen.

She watched him as he knelt and picked up a flat rock, smoothing his thumb over its smooth surface before he skimmed it across the water with a lazy flick of his wrist.

One, two, three, four, five… times it jumped before it sank. She watched the ripples slowly fade, and the water turn back into a clear sheet of glass before she took a deep breath.

"I have a question," she said.

"Do I have an answer?" He flicked another rock over the lake. She ignored his response.

"Why did you want to come here? To Morningstar, I mean."

The rock sank. "If figured it was better than staying in jail," he answered truthfully, tossing another.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm on parole right now. If I didn't take this job, Judge Herondale would've made me stay in there. If this falls out, I'm probably going back." He turned to her, his face hardened into an unreadable mask.

She looked down at her hands that were knitted together. "Why were you arrested anyway?" she asked, all of her carefully planned sentences flying out the window.

When he didn't answer, she looked up to find him glaring at her and she flinched back a bit. He blinked and shifted his gaze from hers.

"They didn't tell you that I punched someone out? Don't you listen to gossip?"

She didn't want to answer him so she waited for him to explain further.

He sighed, scratching his jaw. "Got involved with the wrong crowd, I guess. I'm lucky I wasn't tried as an adult," he said bitterly.

"Wrong crowd?" she probed.

"Yeah."

She waited longer but it seemed like he was done talking about himself. He picked up another rock and winded his arm back, pitching it over the lake. It splashed down several meters out.

She lay back on the boulder, bringing her legs up and staring at the clouds. The sun still beat down, but it was getting darker, and in the distance she could just make out a large gray mass hanging over the mountains to the far east.

"Rain," she said, mostly to herself.

"Huh?" he asked.

"It's going to rain."

"How do you know that?" He looked up at the sky, squinting his eyes into the sun.

"Female intuition," she hoisted herself up and jumped off the rock as he raised an eyebrow at her. "We'd better go."

She walked towards the horses, who were munching on clovers near them. She unbuckled a compartment attached to Caspian's saddle and pulled out a canteen of water, closing her eyes as she took a long sip of the refreshing liquid. Pouring some onto her hand, she rubbed her neck and let the cold water take away the heat of her sunburn as it trickled down her spine. She took another drink.

He watched her, and when she took the bottle away from her mouth she saw him staring at her. She wiped her mouth with her wrist self-consciously.

"Sorry, are you thirsty?" she offered him the bottle.

"Nah," he turned and jumped up into the saddle. She closed the cap, shoving it back into the pack before she pulled herself up also.

They rode back in silence, both of them caught in their own thoughts. Over an hour passed before the trees started getting sparse and they could start seeing the farm in the distance. Clary could see quite a few people in a crowd near the barn, surrounding two people who she guessed were Amatis and Luke.

"What's going on?" she asked of no one. Jace shrugged and they sped up to see what the commotion was about.

"-and we're very sorry," Luke was saying. "We will give you your paychecks at the end of the month. Thanks."

As the crowd dissipated with many murmurs of confusion and annoyance, she saw Simon standing near the entryway. He walked over to Clary and Jace as they both hopped off.

"What going on?" she asked Luke, who had his hands in his pockets and was wearing a pained expression.

Amatis sighed. "We just told them about maybe selling the farm."

"Well you must be pretty sure about it if you're telling them," Clary retorted, shooting Amatis an angry look.

"Don't be angry, Clary. We're doing the best we can," said Luke tiredly.

"Then your best isn't good enough! Do you think that grandpa Garroway would want you to just sell the farm?"

Richard Garroway was Amatis and Luke's father and, as Clary saw it, her only grandfather. He had divided his possessions between them in his will when he died ten years earlier. Even though Clary had never actually known him, she had heard of how much he had put into Morningstar and how much he had loved it. She figured he wouldn't have wanted to see it get thrown away.

Luke's face went blank. "No."

"He wouldn't want us to go bankrupt either," Amatis cut in.

"Can't you see?" she said. "We won't go bankrupt if we keep the farm and Caspian! There's a race next month and the purse is thirty-five thousand. He's gonna be eligible to enter after he wins on Monday! We can hold on until that race and then we'll be fine!"

"We're not talking about this anymore, Clary," Luke said, his eyes darting to Simon and Jace. Simon looked miserable as he glanced at her. She thought about moving away someplace and never seeing him again, about promising they would stay in contact but never actually doing it. She hated the idea.

"But-"

"No more Clary." Her aunt and uncle walked away, leaving her feeling defeated. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her breath whooshed out of her lungs. Even with the blistering heat, she still felt as cold as ice. She was powerless; she could do nothing to change their minds.

Caspian nudged her side lightly, as if he sensed she needed comfort. Clary brought her hand up absentmindedly and scratched his nose. Underneath her fingers was a horse that could change their lives, but the owners were blind to his strength. _Cas will have to change their minds for them then, _she thought. But she wasn't sure if even he could.

"I'm going to go," Jace said. His face was so pale, and he looked as if he had seen a ghost. He slowly started towards the guest house.

She remembered what he had said near the lake, and suddenly realized that if they sold the farm, Jace would have nowhere to go. He would go back to jail because of their money problems. He didn't deserve to go back, and looking at his face Clary could tell that he was scared.

"Hey!" she called. He turned to her. "We're not going to sell this place," her voice shook with her resolve.

He gave her a slight nod and started walking again.

"What are you going to do?" Simon asked quietly.

"I have no idea," she sighed, abruptly tired.

She turned to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was startled by her suddenness but he was quick to hug her back.

"All I know is that I am not moving," she buried her face in his chest, letting the fabric of his shirt catch her tears. She didn't want to forget the way he smelled; the light fragrance of his laundry detergent and soap, mixed with the heady scent of fresh pine shavings. He was home to her. He was the first friend that she ever had that never had given her special treatment because he thought she was fragile from losing her parents. He always knew what she was thinking before she even thought it herself. He was her best friend.

She didn't know how long they stood like that, but when they pulled apart she saw two wet blotches on his shirt that discolored the material. Wiping her eyes quickly, she took a step back from him.

"I guess I'm going to need a new shirt." He pulled at the hem and looked down with a soft smile.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, looking up at her. She smiled shakily.

"I think I'm gonna go talk to Michael," she said, taking a breath and walking into the barn.

"Do you want me to come?" he asked. She turned back to him.

"Of course."

He smiled and walked by her side, taking Georges reins and leading him in after Clary and Caspian. They quickly untacked the horses and put them away. As they walked into the tack room to put away the equipment, they found the trainer looking extremely stressed as he sat at the desk with his eyes scanning the pages of his training log. He wrote down a few notes furiously, nearly ripping the paper with the tip of the pen. He was so concentrated that he hadn't even heard them enter.

"Is everything alright, Mike?" Simon asked, watching as he flipped the pages over and practically tearing them from the binding.

"What I don't understand is why they want to sell him…" Michael was muttering to himself.

"Michael?" Clary stepped forward. His pen stopped it's feverish pace as he looked up at her.

"Yes?"

"We need to show them that Caspian is worth keeping," she said, already knowing that his thoughts were on the subject.

He sighed. "I have already tried. The only other way I can see is for him to win in two days, but from what I've been hearing, the competition is getting even better." He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled at the ends. "He's gonna have to run a hell of a race."

She pulled up one of the rickety chairs that was in the corner and sat. "But you think he can do it right?"

"He has a chance. It's not the best chance, though." He slid the notebook over to her. "You see, he's not improving with John as the rider," he said, using his pen to tap where his times were written.

"Clary, didn't you tell me he does better with a crowd?" Simon asked, as he leaned against the wall that held the saddle racks.

"Yeah. He did better when he had John and Jace watching."

"There's gonna be a _huge_ crowd at the track." He said it like it was a new discovery.

"We know, but relying on just that is risky Simon," Michael said. "He could end up getting spooked instead."

"Horse racing is about taking risks!" Simon insisted, pushing his glasses up.

"I'm pretty sure you're thinking about _betting _on horse racing, not just horse racing," Clary said.

"No, it applies to both." Michael tilted back in his chair and scratched his temple with his pen thoughtfully. "If this is our last race, then we're going to have to risk it and hope for the best. We don't have anything else to lose."

""""""""

Clary sat at the dinner table with her aunt and uncle in cold silence, pushing a piece of broccoli around the edge of her plate. She hadn't talked to them since yesterday, and she could tell that they were both glancing worriedly at her between bites. Knowing that tomorrow afternoon could affect the rest of the ranch's future made her lose her appetite. Even Amatis's delicious cheesy lasagna couldn't get it back. She felt sick to her stomach. Standing up, she went to the garbage and dumped the rest of her dinner into the trash.

"That's a waste, Clarissa," said Luke. He had taken to calling her by her full name which he knew she hated. She just stared at him and scraped the remnants of the cheese off her plate with her fork slowly. He expelled a sigh.

She glided to her room, happy that she was making them angry. After all they had made her angry. It may have been childish to stop speaking to them, but she couldn't bring herself to care. As far as she was concerned, they didn't deserve her speech.

On the nightstand was her sketchbook. She walked over and flipped it open to the first page. She saw tall buildings, with their glass windows sparkling as the sun glinted off the panes. She turned to the next page and saw a winter scene with flakes of snow floating down gently as she looked though her window. These old drawings were mostly of New York, where she used to live. She remembered liking the industrial architecture and the feeling of being in a bustling city. Although, ever since she had come to Morningstar, she couldn't stand it.

She turned past them, and she started saw drawing that she had made a few years ago after she had come to Morningstar. Large mountains, all different kinds of trees, and scenes of leaves falling in autumn were what were drawn. A few sketches were of the barn, the long hallway leading down and opening up to a picturesque summer morning.

A lump grew in her throat as she flipped the pages, each one of them showing something that she loved about living here. She had never thought that she would ever leave Morningstar, and looking at the drawings she realized just how much she had come to adore the place. It was quaint and small, and she couldn't picture herself living anywhere else.

She ended on the last page where she had drawn Jace. Feeling guilty about being the reason that he could be going back to jail, she closed the book hastily. She tossed it onto her bed and walked to her window to open it. The humidity had gone down quite a bit since noontime. She stuck her head out and took a breath of the cool night air.

The guest house was just across from her window, and under the bright moonlight, she could see Jace sitting on his porch watching the stars. She figured she should talk to him, to at least tell him she was sorry.

She passed through the house and ignored Luke's sleeping form draped over the living room couch. Her bare feet scraped against the gravel, and she shivered with the cold as she walked. She had worn shorts that day and had forgotten to change into something warmer.

As she approached the porch, he looked at her with his eyes and hair shining silver instead of gold for the first time. The moons light paled him, making his skin tone the same as hers. She sat wordlessly beside him as she looked up at the sky.

Before she had come to Morningstar, she had never really seen the stars. The nighttime in New York was never really dark; the sky was always illuminated with artificial lights that blocked out the stars brilliance. Here, she could see nearly every constellation.

"You know, I've never actually seen stars," he said quietly, his voice sounding deep and rough. "At least not like they are here." She turned to him, startled that he was thinking the same thing as her.

"It's too bright to see them in New York," he added.

"You used to live in New York?"

"Yeah, in Brooklyn." Her jaw dropped.

"I used to live in Brooklyn too," she said. He turned to her, his eyes intense.

"Small world."

She stared at him for a long moment before she looked down at her knees.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she hugged her arms around herself.

"For what?" he asked, still watching her intently.

"I'm sorry that we're selling the ranch. And I'm sorry that you couldn't have stayed longer. But… I'm really sorry that you might have to go back." She shivered again.

"Hey," he said. She looked up at the tone of his voice. It was almost urgent. "That's not your fault. It's my own fault for doing stupid shit."

"But if we weren't-"

"No." He leaned towards her minutely. "I'm sure I would've done something else stupid anyway, and ended up going back."

She could feel the heat of his side as it pressed into hers, and she had to work to not fall into his warmth. Goosebumps raised on her skin. When he pulled away, she almost whimpered at the cold air that came between them.

He started to take off his sweatshirt, and his sleeve rose up, revealing another tattoo. "Here. You're cold." He handed it to her.

Her fingers closed over the soft black fleece gratefully, before she pushed her arms through the too long sleeves and zipped up the front. She sniffed the collar discreetly and caught the smell of a soft musk mixed with the fresh scent of his shampoo. She sighed as the warmth enveloped her.

"What does your tattoo say?" she asked.

"Huh?" he had looked back out over the yard and snapped his head in her direction again. "Oh, this?" He lifted his sleeve again, exposing his bicep. She nodded.

"_Sed lex, dura lex, _it means-"

"The law is hard, but it is the law," Clary cut in and blushed when he caught her eye. "I took a class in Latin last year."

"Impressive," he said, making her blush deeper. He smoothed his sleeve down again, and she glimpsed more script on his arm.

"I don't know what that means," she said, pointing to his forearm.

He gave her a crooked smile. "_Chi la fa, viene intorno._" His voice sounded smoother when he spoke in a foreign language. She stared at his arm, still confused as to what it meant. "Italian. It's indicating karma. Like, what goes around comes around."

"Oh," she said. "Are you Italian?"

His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. "Partly." He looked back up at the sky.

Again, his mood swings confused her. She sighed. She hoped that she someday would be able to understand why he acted that way, but then she remembered that he might not stay that much longer.

Trying to salvage the conversation, she said, "You should give yourself more credit." She looked down at her knees once more.

"What are you talking about?" he replied, confused.

"When you said you would just do something else stupid. Don't think that." She picked at the little pills on his sweatshirt.

He watched her carefully, and she wondered if she had sounded stupid when she looked back up at him. The light made a halo around his hair, causing his features to darken in the shadow it made. He didn't answer her, he just turned back to the night.

She curled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, as she leaned into railing. They sat like this, listening to the crickets chirp and the owls hoot. Clary's eyes drifted closed and she snuggled further into Jace's sweatshirt, taking another whiff of the sleeve. She found comfort in the plush fabric and she slowly fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Yep, you guys are officially amazing. You're all so encouraging! Keep reviewing please :) _

_No, I didn't write the Mortal Instruments.*sigh* Ms Clare did._

* * *

He sat there, watching the stars for hours. He wasn't tired, not at all. His thoughts were racing through his head, making sleep unattainable. He had thought that staying here would be more permanent, and he wouldn't have to leave this quickly. He actually liked it here. It was so much quieter than the city, and there were no gunshots in the middle of the night like there was when he had lived in Oakland. He was so used to hearing them, that not hearing gunshots made it almost too quiet. _Makes it peaceful, _he thought.

Earlier he had called his parole officer, Henry White, and asked if there was any other place that he could go to spend his parole time. But, as luck would have it, there wasn't. All the other job slots were given to other inmates that also showed good behavior. Judges wanted the convicted to spend some time giving back to the community and to show that they really are changing for the better. But if these jobs failed for the other inmates they could just go to their homes and stay with there families. The problem was that he had nowhere to go. He couldn't go stay with his family; for all he knew they were both dead. And since he was still seventeen he wouldn't be allowed to live on his own, especially while on parole. The only other option for him would be to continue his parole in jail. "They would put you in the wing that houses other like you," Henry had said. _Others like me_. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth together. He wanted to feel normal, not like a dog waiting to be picked up from the pound.

Henry had suggested that since the Garroway's still weren't sure if they were moving yet, that he could wait it out and stay with them until they were. Jace hadn't told him just how final it had sounded when Luke and Amatis were talking about it.

While lost in thought, he didn't notice that Clary was sleeping beside him. Her breathing was steady and quiet when she shifted her head from the railing to rest on his arm. He was startled, but looking down at her face he loosened up his fists. Her features were free of the pain that he had seen before, and now they were relaxed with sleep. Her mouth was slightly open and her cheeks were a soft pink. As he watched her sleep, he felt that weird light-weighted feeling in his chest again. It happened often while he was here and he had attributed the feeling to being in a new place and his nerves about having to leave. She snuggled into his side and snaked her arm through his. He could have stayed like that forever; he hadn't had anyone be this close to him since he was little. He liked the way that her body felt against his, liked that she leaned into him and breathed steadily onto his arm.

The patter of rain against the tin roof over the porch sliced his attention away from her. At first it was just a few drops but the heavier rain was coming on fast. _She was right. _He looked down at her again with a slight smirk on his face and he saw that she was still sleeping. He figured he should wake her up and let her sleep in her own bed, considering she would feel sore in the morning if she stayed curled up like this. He removed his arm from her grip and drew his finger along her cheek gently, reveling in its softness. When she didn't stir, he leaned in and whispered for her to wake up.

"Clary." Still no response. "Clary, you need to wake up. It's raining." Her eyelids started to flutter open and he drew his hand away from her cheek.

"Hmm?" she hummed thickly, her eyes still half closed.

"Clary, wake up." His breath fanned over her face. Her eyes opened fully and immediately rested on his that were only a few inches away. Instead of being gold, they blazed a fierce silver in the light of the moon.

"Oh!" She sat bolt upright and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry, I guess I fell asleep," she said sleepily as she started blushing.

"Mhmm," he answered, watching the swirl of red as it painted her cheeks. The rain had picked up and now it was practically pouring. Clary looked past the porch and grimaced.

"Ick," she said. He followed her eyes and scanned the yard, finding it hard to see through the rain.

"What time is it?" she asked as she yawned.

"It's almost two in the morning." She turned to him and saw dark circles shaded beneath his eyes. His face was set into a hard façade as he twisted his hands together.

"I should go," she said, standing up and looking warily at the sheeting rain. He stood up after her.

"You could crash on my couch until the rain stops."

She hesitated. "Uh, no. I really should go." She started to take off the sweatshirt, but his hand stopped her.

"Keep it on. You're gonna need it." He gestured beyond the porch and looked down at her pale legs.

"OK," she replied as she blushed, secretly happy that she could keep it. Pulling the large hood up, she took a step down the stairs and turned back to him. "Bye."

He looked away from her and nodded minutely as she turned and jumped off the stairs, her bare feet splashing in large puddle and spraying her legs. She ran where her feet took her; she couldn't look up since the rain was so heavy. The cold rain pummeled her head immediately making her shiver, even through the covering of Jace's sweatshirt. Tiptoeing over the gravel driveway, she ended up outside of the large sliding barn doors. She rolled the sleeve of the sweatshirt up and grabbed the handle, using all of her weight to fling the door to the right. She ducked under the wooden bar that was set behind the door, and shook her hood off. A few horses grumbled in surprise.

The sweatshirt was soaked through. She squirmed, her arms sticking to the wet fleece and making it hard to get off. She finally broke free and set the sopping material on a nearby bench, laying it out to dry. Freezing, she went to the tack room to find a blanket. Once inside, she opened up an old wooden chest with brass locks and dug to the bottom of it, passing all of the saddle pads. Her hand searched for the bottom before resting on the one and only blanket there was. She pulled it out and she shuddered as the soft quilted fabric wrapped around her shoulders and fell past her feet. Drying her face, she walked out and into the deserted concrete hallway. Through the crack of the barn doors, she saw a flash of lightning that was soon followed by a deafening clap of thunder. She flinched, wondering if the storm would pass soon. Sniffling, she walked to the stalls with the blanket trailing behind her on the floor.

She went to Caspian's stall, of course. She wanted to see how he was doing, and if the lightning was spooking him. Looking past the metal bars she saw him, perfectly at ease. His lower lip was slack and he stood with one of his back legs bent lazily. He lifted his head and gave a soft nicker.

Clary gave a half-smile before she opened up his stall door slowly, the metal track sliding easily and soundlessly. She unhooked the rubber divider and walked in, shutting it behind her. She felt his nose press into her back and she turned, scratching his neck before she stepped closer and hugged his neck. She didn't even want to think about him leaving. It would be too much to think about losing both of her best friends. She hoped beyond hope that he would win this afternoon. IF he did, there would at least be a better chance of keeping him and Morningstar. She hugged his neck tighter and he snuffled her hair.

She stepped back and slid her spine down the boarded wall, sitting on clean pine shavings. She wrapped the blanket around her wet legs as she curled them to her chest and shivered again. Another clap of thunder resonated through the barn, and she heard a few horses shift and make surprised noises.

She sat and watched Caspian sleep for the rest of the night. He was so calm, not knowing that tomorrow could affect the rest of his life. She wished she could calm her mind. Instead, her head was so busy going over all of the possible ways to keep the farm that sleep wouldn't find her. Her efforts were fruitless. _I could beg, _she suggested. _Maybe crying will work on Luke… _

She was being foolish and she knew it. She would just have to get used to the idea of leaving Morningstar. But her problems were nothing compared to Jace's. How must it feel to get out of jail and then have to go back with it not even being your own fault? It was their fault; he had done nothing wrong. Done nothing to deserve this family's misfortunes. _He must think that we're horrible, _she mused. He had looked so hard back on the porch. Like he didn't want to talk to her after she had woken up on his arm. He had almost looked angry. She wondered what he had been thinking about while she had slept. She twirled a piece of loose thread around her finger, and wished that life could just be a little bit easier.

The storm continued all night long but as the dawn approached it started to dissipate, leaving billows of misty fog trailing in its wake. Clary stood and stretched her arms and legs, feeling like complete crap. She was so sore from sitting curled up all night. Walking up to Caspian, she gave him a pat and tried to hold back a large lump in her throat. While biting her lip, she exited the stall and walked slowly to the doors of the barn, tossing the blanket in a corner. Tugging the hair tie out of her hair and letting her dark red hair cascade messily past her shoulders, she transferred the elastic onto her wrist and picked up the sweatshirt which she found nearly dry. Pulling it on, she crossed her arms around herself and walked outside.

The yard looked ethereal. The large trees bowed their leaves under the heavy water that clung to them, the pastures were filled with soft low- lying clouds that blocked out the forest beyond, and the air was so thick with humidity that she almost choked. _At least it's not raining anymore_, she thought.

She walked up the long driveway, watching the fog caress her bare legs. The sweatshirt fell well past her shorts and Clary realized that it looked as if she wasn't wearing pants. She didn't bother pulling the fabric down; who was going to see her anyway? Her hands were stuffed into the deep pockets as she tried to keep warm. Although she wanted to go inside to warm up, she knew that she couldn't; she knew that Amatis and Luke would be awake soon. She definitely had no need to talk to them, today of all days. She still couldn't believe that in a matter of hours, her life could change for the worse.

She reached the end of the drive and stopped. Deciding to go to the left, she kept moving her feet. The hard asphalt of the street scraped against their soles but she didn't mind; her feet were used to the abuse. The sun was starting to peek into the dense covering of leaves above her, but the fog and the cold still remained. She whooshed out a breath and a large puff of steam blossomed in front of her eyes. When the puff dispersed she saw Jace running towards her.

He was dressed much the same way that he had been the first time that she had seen him running. Shirtless with low slung shorts. An embarrassed blush crept onto her cheeks. He had seen her and was smirking as he increased his speed to stop in front of her.

"Hey," he panted as he flipped his wet hair out of his face, small tendrils of steam floating off of his body. He wore white shorts that showed off his luminous skin and dark tattoos that stood in stark contrast with the light material.

She stared at the ground, blushing furiously. "I… um, hi," she mumbled, cursing herself for having such easily colored cheeks as she pulled at the bottom of the sweatshirt trying to cover up her extremely exposed legs.

He suppressed a chuckle. "You look like shit." She looked up at him and glowered. She was certain that her hair was a mess and full of hay and that her eyes had bags beneath them, but he still didn't need to acknowledge it.

"Thanks," she said with heavy sarcasm as she turned back towards the house. She heard his footfalls scurry to catch up with her.

"Wait a sec," he said. Ignoring him, she walked faster.

"Clary," he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"What!" she said crossly, slapping his hand away from her. She was too stressed out to do anything else.

He cradled his hand to his chest, feigning hurt, and furrowed his brows. "You're cranky."

"Ugh. Just go away." She started to turn again but he jumped in front of her.

"When is this race thing?" he said quickly, putting his large hands on her delicate shoulders to stop her from getting past him.

"We're leaving at ten, but it starts at two," she quipped, lifting an eyebrow. "Why?"_ Surely he doesn't want to go?_

"I dunno. I guess I want to go?" he said it like a question, like he wasn't sure if he really wanted to.

She stared at his face, trying to decode the expression on that she saw there. His golden eyes were hard and impassive but his lips were set into a surprisingly cute half-smile. She concluded that he had a multiple personality disorder.

"Is that OK?" he continued when she didn't answer. She plucked his arms off of her and turned.

"Yeah, whatever." He watched her walk away before he ran to fall into step beside her.

She shoved her hands into her pockets viciously and looked in the other direction when he came up. They walked back home like that, with Jace glancing at her every so often only to see that she still had that same expression on her face. A strained expression. Her features were crinkled with stress, anxiety, and loss of sleep.

They walked under the modest archway that announced they were entering Morningstar Farms when he turned to her.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly.

She did a double take. She had never heard him say that before. Not even on the first day she had met him and he was unappreciative of everything she did. Staring at him, she could tell that he had never heard himself say that. He looked astonished that he had actually said it. She looked at him hard and narrowed her eyes, trying to get a read on him. _This kid's a whack job, _she thought. She lifted her hands in the pockets as she shrugged loosely.

"For what?"

He composed himself and took a step closer to her, his body inches away. His eyes were a concentrated topaz. "You have a lot on your mind."

She looked intently into his eyes as they liquefied before her. At the moment, she could barely remember her name as she stared into their depths. Her mouth hung open stupidly. _How does he do that? _He had just been insulting her two minutes ago.

"Uh… What?" she blinked, trying to get a hold on herself.

"You're stressed out," he said as he lifted his hand almost unthinkingly to her chin. He gently pushed up on her jaw and closed it for her. She swallowed loudly. "You should relax."

She looked down and laughed nervously, clearing her muddled thoughts. "Yeah, right. Like that's going to happen," she said as she shuffled her feet into the hard packed dirt, blushing. Turning away from him slowly, she stumbled drunkenly before continuing in the direction of the house.

He laughed quietly at her clumsiness as he followed her though the mist.

""""""""

The sky was a monotone of gray. Even now, at eleven-thirty the sun still had not shown his face yet. Clary tried not to take the dull skies as an omen for bad luck as she sat in the center seat of Michael's truck. There was a light drizzle that peppered against the windshield, blurring the road ahead of them. As they drove, the sound of rubber tires against wet pavement was all they heard.

Clary glanced at him, noting that his hands gripped the steering wheel and were white at the knuckles. The rough tanned skin on his face was lined with stress and worry. She was sure she had the same expression as him. The entire family so was tense this morning that Clary had opted out of driving with her aunt uncle.

She looked to her left, she saw Simon sitting in the passenger seat, drumming his fingers on the dashboard to whatever song he was listening to on his IPod. Even though he looked at ease, Clary knew that music was his way of calming himself down and "de-stressifying" as he had put it. She sat awkwardly in the small center seat with both of her hands on her lap as she watched them both.

After about an hours' drive Michael pulled into the large parking lot of San Luis Rey Downs racing facility closely followed by Amatis, Luke, and Jace in the old Jeep Cherokee. Michael drove past the guard showing him a participation ticket. He waved them on with a vague point of his finger to the members parking area.

Michael put the truck in park in the spot marked number thirteen and clicked the keys out of the ignition. "Let's go," his said, his voice was gruff. Simon jumped out the door and Clary slid over the seat after him, knowing why everyone was so beat down.

They had gotten word that Winchester's Dream, another horse that was competing, was showing the most promise. His lowest time was a minute forty-one; a full two seconds less than Caspian's. And to add more fuel to the fire, Winchester's Dream had more experience. Although he was one of the more qualified horses, Saratoga was still the crowd favorite with his ostentatious electric blue silks and matching tack. Unlike the Garroway's, the Lightwoods could afford to spend money on such petty things. Clary distantly hoped that they wouldn't meet them at the track. But that was unlikely. She made her way around the back of the trailer, her boots sticking in the mud.

Amatis pulled up beside the trailer and cut off the churning engine mid growl. The three passengers got out quickly and joined the group at the end of the trailer. Michael was unhinging the latch to open the back door when Amatis said that she and Luke were going to the registration office to tell them that they had arrived. He gave her a noncommittal grunt and she left without further words, Luke jogging to catch up with her quick pace.

He swung the door down, creating a ramp for Caspian to step down on. Walking up, Clary joined Caspian and took his lead as she slowly pushed him to back out of the trailer. Once he was out, Michael took the lead and led him to a drier spot where he proceeded to take off his leg guards and check for swelling.

"No swelling," he said, reaching up and scratching Caspian's neck. He looked over at Clary. "Do you want to take him in? I'm gonna get the rest of the stuff." She nodded and stepped forward, past Jace and Simon, and took the lead from him.

"The stall number is sixty-three," Michael added.

"I'll go with you," Simon said quickly, obviously wanting to get away from the heavy lifting. She gave him a small smile as they both walked past the long rows of horses that were being unloaded from their trailers.

The barn was the largest barn she had ever seen. Even though she had been here before for other races, the size of it still baffled her. It was easily the size of one and a half football fields. The outer walls were made of metal sheets, giving the building a very modern look. As they walked in, a few people greeted them and wished them good luck giving them warm and friendly smiles. _Probably Michael's friends, _she thought. Inside, it was fairly dark except for the soft yellow lights that hung on the wooden walls, illuminating the large hallways.

When they found the stall Clary brought Caspian in and shut the door behind him. As she turned back around to talk to Simon her eyes rested on the group of people bringing their horse in to the stall next to theirs. The two adults were dressed very properly and clean, but you could quickly tell that their clothing was from a designer label. The woman wore a stiff looking tailored suit and the man wore much the same. The son looked to be about nineteen and he wore a crisp white dress shirt with khaki trousers. All three of them looked as if they were off to an important business meeting rather than walking around in a dirty barn. They all watched as one of the workers shut their horse inside of the stall.

_The Lightwoods. Great. _

She looked towards Simon and nodded her head in their direction, drawing his attention to them. He groaned and turned back to face her.

"Do we talk to them?" he whispered.

"I don't want to!" she whisper-yelled. "We're just are gonna have to listen to them jabber about all of their expensive shit."

Simon made a face. "Then what-"

Maryse's high pitched voice cut him off. "Clarissa Fray!"

She stifled a groan and slowly turned to face her. Maryse's hair was pulled into a harsh bun at the top of her head showing off her sharp angular features and she had her ice-blue eyes fixated on Clary's green ones with her signature severe gaze.

"Hi, Mrs. Lightwood."

She nodded sharply, completely disregarding Simon who was standing two feet away. "We weren't expecting Morningstar to enter considering your family's financial standing," she gave a fake smile. "But it is a wonderful surprise nonetheless."

Clary had to stop herself from tackling her. She had forgotten the Lightwoods' uncanny ability to get on her nerves. Robert, her husband, and Alec, her son, joined the group as they sauntered over.

"Anyway," Maryse continued, pointing towards Caspian. "Is this your horse? He looks to be in remarkable condition."

"Yes. He is in great condition," she said smugly.

Maryse's eyes darted back to Clary with a flash of annoyance that dissolved as soon as it had come. It was replaced with another smile. "Indeed."

Clary looked over at Alec, whose face was contorted into a look of utter disgust. He turned his nose up at her and Simon like they were simple people that were below his interest. "Saratoga has had the ultimate in training this year. He is at his _best _condition_._"

Robert shot him a very parental look. "Don't boast, Alec." Alec settled into his usual gloomy attitude as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I suppose we'll be seeing you at the track, dear," Maryse said, resuming the conversation.

"I suppose so," Clary retorted, and with that, Maryse turned on the heel of her pointy shoe and strode out of the barn, her family following behind her.

It was people like the Lightwoods that made her want to prove herself even more. She wanted to prove that just because her family wasn't rich and didn't have all the expensive things the Lightwoods had, her family could still beat them. She wanted her life and her family's to change for the better and for them to win this race. But what she really wanted at the moment was to be able to shove it all in the Lightwoods faces in the end.

""""""""

If it hadn't been such a miserable day, Clary would actually call the sight pretty. She stood on the large bleacher-like stadium seating as she overlooked the track at San Luis Rey Downs. The sod was combed neatly, not even one hoof print marking it. The fog still lingered at the far side of the track, making it hard to see. Off to the left, the glossy starting gate stood empty because the horses still were coming out and finishing their warm ups by trotting around the practice ring.

The Garroway's had a booth reserved for them since they were entered in the race, but Clary preferred to stand at the bottom near the rail. She wanted to be able to really see the action as it went on. But, as an added bonus, she got to be away from the Lightwoods whose booth was right next to their own. Amatis, Luke, and Jace sat up at their booth at the top while she descended the large stairway to find Michael and Simon among the mass of people standing at the bottom.

"Excuse me," she said, smiling as a rather large man with a paunchy stomach looked down at her and moved to the side, giving her just enough space to squeeze by and stand with Simon.

"He's gonna be here in a sec," Simon informed her. He rested his elbows on the white metal rail and hung his hands over the edge as he looked up and down the track watching as the many horses passed by with their shadows dressed in western tack rode beside them, keeping them in check. Clary glimpsed a gleaming black coat in the corner of her eye and leaned over the rail slightly to get a better look.

Caspian was being lead by his shadow as Mr. Newman sat atop him dressed in Morningstar's signature green and white silks. Cas was matching also with a green saddle blanket that proclaimed him to be number seven. John raised his whip in a wave as he and Caspian walked by.

"Good luck!" Simon said heartily. John tipped his helmet in his direction.

"We're going to need it," Michael said as he came up behind the two of them. He joined them and leaned against the rail.

Clary tried not to notice the hopelessness in his voice as she listened to the announcer blaring over the loudspeakers.

"Welcome to another day at San Luis Rey Downs!" The massive crowd cheered. "Today's weather isn't great but the talent sure is! We have Kinesthetic Kat who is…." The announcer continued to name all of the competition, but only a few names stuck in her head. Midnight Rider, Saratoga, Winchester's Dream, and Caspian were the horses that he focused on most, telling the crowd about their previous wins and bloodlines.

As the horses started piling into their numbered gates he named each of them off individually and when he said Caspian's name the anxiety that seemed to be resting in her chest increased tenfold. She bit her lip and tapped her fingernails on the metal as she rocked back and forth on her heels. She was almost feeling sick with all of the nervous tension that she had. Clary knew that she couldn't change the outcome of the race and that this nervousness wasn't going to help anything but she needed to get some of it out somehow.

"All the horses are in the starting gate!" More cheers erupted from the crowd as Clary stopped tapping and grabbed Simons arm in a vice grip. He didn't seem to mind. She watched the horses shuffle within the gate in anticipation, her eyes resting on Caspian.

After a few moments of sheer agony, the gate clanged open as the bell rang.

"And they're off!"

* * *

_*covers head* Don't kill me! Heheh. I thought you guys needed a good cliff hanger. _

_REVIEWS MAKE MEH HAPPEH :D _


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you everyone!_

_Let's see… nope, it still belongs to a woman named… hmm… Cassandra Clare._

* * *

Powerful hooves battered the turf as the horses rushed out of the gate. The muscles and tendons within their legs straining with the effort it took. Such strong creatures were awe inspiring to watch as they galloped across her view. Clary usually loved being at the track for these races but under the current circumstances, she was actually feeling quite sick. She could hear the announcer blaring over the speakers but she tuned him out, not wanting to listen to his annoyingly precise overview of the race.

The large mass of horses whipped past her and Simon as they continued along the track. She shifted onto her tiptoes as she leaned over the rail to get a look at where Caspian was. Craning her neck, she saw him blocked in the center of the pack. She could tell that John was trying to find a way out of the bind but the pack hadn't broken up yet. Being in the center of the pack was not a good place to stay for long. Here, it's more likely for a horse to get bumped and end up seriously injured. She tightened her grip on Simon's arm anxiously.

As they rounded the first turn the pack broke up quite a bit, some horses shooting forward to get ahead and weed out any of the horses that couldn't catch up. She saw John make his move so that Caspian was no longer in the center, but closer to the rail and quite a few lengths behind some of the main contenders. He lengthened his stride a bit but Clary could tell that John was holding him back and saving his energy.

The second turn propelled some of the other horses past Cas and John. She was sure that she was cutting off Simon's circulation to his hand. She squinted her eyes, trying to see better.

But she still couldn't see what was happening considering the fog and mist on the far side of the track. Thankfully, the announcer had binoculars so he could see the race perfectly. He could at least tell the crowd what was going on out there.

"It's still Midnight Rider, Saratoga, Winchester's Dream, and Lextus working for first! Kinesthetic Kat is moving past Caspian to take fifth, Alto Vito close behind..." he bellowed into the speaker. Clary's heart plummeted. _What is John doing out there? For God's sake, Caspian can do better than Alto Vito, _she thought quickly.

The horses, now spread out quite evenly, came into view as they advanced onto the third turn. As another horse named Harlequin passed Cas, she saw John decide on a make or break decision. He gave Caspian rein and egged him on with the whip as he led him to the outside edge of the pack.

"What in the hell is he doing?" Michael said, his voice deep and gravelly. He squeezed in between Clary and the plump businessman to her right. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the track, analyzing Johns every move with his skilled eye.

This wasn't what Caspian had trained for. He was faster near the rail and he had never gone in a full out sprint on the outside. John had no idea if it would overexert Cas or not. Her anxiety turned to anger. She would rather have Caspian lose than be hurt by such a stupid and careless decision.

But as soon her anger came, it subsided when Caspian slowly began accelerating past Alto Vito, Kinesthetic Kat and Lextus. Her jaw nearly dropped. She had never seen Caspian's stride so wide. They passed the fourth turn and rocketed up the last stretch.

"Winchester's Dream falling behind… Caspian shooting ahead! It's Saratoga, Midnight Rider, and Caspian!" the announcer screeched with excitement as the crowd cheered loudly. Clary leaned into Simon as she gripped onto his arm and looked out over the rail, her apprehension returning with full force.

Caspian was still going hard as he passed Midnight Rider to come even with Saratoga. She dug her nails into Simon's sweatshirt viciously as she gave a little squeak.

Somehow Caspian still had enough energy in him to slowly inch past the leader. But just as Caspian was about to accelerate further, Saratoga shifted to the right and gave Caspian a rough shove with his shoulder into his flank; pushing him further outwards. Caspian shied away and broke his stride as Saratoga went on to finish in first by a length. The crowd was a resounding chorus of boos as the horses passed the finish line.

"Oh my God," Clary gasped, as she stared openmouthed at the aftermath.

Caspian had ended up in second place and it was obvious that the bump had shaken him. His head was held high as he shied away from the other horses that passed him, frightened. John slowed him to a trot as he tried to calm him down and exit the track. Michael shoved himself off of the rail and nearly ran through the crowd towards the main building.

"I can't believe he lost," Simon said quietly. She had to lean in to hear him over the announcer shouting into the microphone.

"No. He was bumped; I mean, it was obvious that Saratoga messed him up!" She turned from him and looked down the track again her eyes resting on John and Cas who were being led to the paddocks with the help of a few shadows. Caspian still looked pretty shaken up and Clary desperately hoped that he wasn't injured.

"Let's go!" she grabbed Simons hand roughly and pulled him with her as she sprinted to the paddocks. She weaved through the crowd hearing snippets of people's conversations.

What she heard largely consisted of outraged cries from many of the betters. She hadn't realized that so many people would bet on Caspian, who was not one of the favorites to win. Nonetheless, she was happy that he was a threat to his other opponents.

When the pair emerged from the thicket of the crowd they crossed the fence that blocked off the members only area and rushed to where Caspian was. John and a few other men were standing near him and trying to quiet him down with cool towels. His eyes were wide, showing the whites, as he danced uncomfortably on his left side, breathing fast and deep. His smooth black coat was dripping with sweat from exertion and fear. She stepped forward cautiously, trying not to startle the already frightened creature. When he didn't shy away from her, she reached out with a small hand to stroke his neck slowly. He turned to her with wide eyes and relaxed a bit as he realized that Clary was someone safe, someone he trusted.

He didn't look as if he was seriously injured; maybe only a deep bruise where he was bumped and that was it. Although she was extremely grateful that he wasn't hurt, a small voice in the back of her head told her that he could be leaving her still. She had guessed that Michael had left to go talk to the racing board about the incident. Hopefully they would see that the bump had seriously impeded Caspian's chances at coming in first place and penalize Saratoga and his owners, the Lightwoods. If the racing board decided to penalize them, Caspian would most likely be put in first by default.

"Hey," she said gaining the men's attention. "How's his left flank? He doesn't seem comfortable." Her voice sounded hollow even to herself, as she tried to fight back the frustrated tears that prickled in her eyes.

"I checked him quick and it only seems like a bruise, nothin' serious. But Lionel should still come and take a look at it just to be sure," John said. Lionel was one of the certified veterinarians that worked at the racetrack for when horses were injured and if anyone needed dietary supplement advice. He gave the partnership dogs at the state's juvenile detention center checkups and shots. He also happened to be a good friend of the family.

Clary stared at him. She still couldn't believe that he would take such a huge risk during the race. She knew that he had meant well and he was obviously trying to win for the Garroway's and bring the family out of debt, but he had still blatantly disregarded the instructions of his employer.

She focused her attention on Caspian as she slowly drew her hands along his sweaty back and to his flank where she proceeded to check for swelling or tenderness using the techniques that Lionel had shown her when she had first come to Morningstar. She wanted to make sure that he really was OK herself. He shifted uneasily when she pressed on his side, confirming her and John's thoughts about a bruise.

She petted his wet coat and tried soothing him with her voice as she whispered to him softly. He had calmed down considerably since he had first gotten off the track and Clary was glad. It was scary seeing such a large and powerful animal be so terrified and practically out of control.

Clary looked to her left and saw Amatis, Luke and Jace rushing to the group, all with worried looks.

"Is he alright?" Amatis asked anxiously as she walked up behind Simon.

"We think so. Maybe just a bruise," Simon said, looking over his shoulder.

"Thank God," Amatis sighed as she brought her hand to her chest. Clary watched as Luke pulled John aside and started to talk to him in hushed tones. She guessed they were talking about the stunt he pulled.

"Where's Michael? I need to talk with him," Amatis continued quickly, getting back to her business voice.

Jace, who had been very silent, piped up. "I saw him going into the main building." He sounded like he was exhausted.

Clary glanced at him. When he caught her eye he looked away quickly, but before he turned Clary saw the sadness that rested in his eyes. Instantly, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. Her life may be changing but at least she wasn't going to jail.

"Good. He's probably talking to the racing board right now. I'll go find him." Amatis nodded and her eyes scanned the group before she turned abruptly and jogged in the direction of the main building.

Luke broke off his conversation with John to come talk to her. She looked past him and saw John looking very upset and angry. "We should keep walking him out, Clary. I don't want him to get stiff."

She focused back at Luke; his face was as hard as stone. She knew that he hated to be the bad guy and, judging from John's reaction, it looked like he had just fired him.

"Oh, OK," she said, slowly turning to Jace and raising an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"I'll go with you," he said, catching on. He stepped forward past Simon who was scowling disappointedly.

"Come on, Son," Luke said to Simon, leading him to the main building as he discreetly gave the two of them some time alone. "Let's go join up with Michael."

After they left, Clary started to lead Caspian around the large paddock as Jace walked beside her. He was silent, obviously lost in his thoughts. She wanted to tell him that she wanted him to stay with her at Morningstar and that she would miss him if he left, but every way that she was saying it in her head sounded stupid. Instead, she kicked at the sifted dirt with the toe of her boot as she walked, waiting for him to say something.

Out of habit, she peeked over at him. His head was bent down and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His hair fell into his face, cutting off her view of his tell-all topaz eyes. She had the sudden urge to move his hair back and away from his face but she stopped herself, not wanting to disrupt him. She twirled the lead rope around her thin wrist nervously as she waited.

"Caspian did great today," he said, his voice sounding gritty. He kept staring at the ground.

"Yeah, he did," she said reflectively. And he really had. She had no idea that he had it in him to sprint along the outside. This fact could change his entire training schedule. Even though he didn't come in first, she was still proud of him, proud to know that this horse was hers, and to know that she got to be a part of his life even though their time together could be cut short. She hoped desperately that the racing board would re-access the race and find that Saratoga bumped Caspian intentionally. Then she could at least keep Jace, even if they still had to sell Caspian in the end.

"Listen, Clary," Jace said as he stopped walking. She stopped Caspian and turned to him slowly, concerned by the tone of his voice. It sounded insistent. He stepped a few feet closer.

He finally looked up from the dirt, and looked at her intently, his golden locks falling into his eyes which burned into her own. "If I do end up leaving, I just wanted to tell you that-"

He was cut off by a shout from Michael. "Clary! Bring him over!" She watched the muscle in Jace's jaw jump agitatedly before he deflated like a balloon, going back to the dull attitude he had had before.

She waved Michael off and waited for Jace to say more. "Tell me what?" she asked, her voice nearly inaudible.

He looked away and the connection between them was lost. He cleared his throat. "Michael wants you," he jerked his head in his direction.

She stared at him for a few moments, utterly confused. _What the hell was that about? _When Michael called her again, this time more urgently, she tore her attention away from Jace and started towards the trainer and her aunt and uncle.

As she neared the fence, she saw a man that she didn't know wearing a well tailored and expensive looking suit which looked positively out of place with his spiked raven black hair, dark eyeliner and multiple piercings. The man was thin, thinner than any other man she had ever met, and he was tall. Even so, his dark squinted eyes gave him a very alluring presence.

Clary glanced over at Simon who was looking at the man with his eyebrows raised into his hairline. She stifled a laugh.

"Hello Clary, my name is Magnus Bane. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you," he said with gusto as he held his hand out to her. She grasped it and noticed his feather light touch along with the many heavy looking rings adorning his slender fingers.

"Hi, Mr. Bane," she said politely as she gave him a small smile.

He shook his head. "No, no, no, please call me Magnus. There's no need to make me feel old," he smiled at her warmly. He looked to her left and rested his eyes on Caspian, who was still sweaty from his run ten minutes earlier. "And this must be your Caspian. He _is_ stunning!" He clapped his hands together happily.

"It is a shame what happened out there." His voice went from giddy to businesslike. "As head of the racing board I'm supposed to give the final say on the matter of who to disqualify." He leaned in and said in a lower tone, "But between you and me, I highly dislike the Lightwoods." Winking at her, he moved past her and went to Caspian's side slowly, so as not to startle him, and pressed gingerly on his flank. Again, the horse shifted uneasily at the contact.

"We think it's a deep tissue bruise," Luke said, stepping forward.

Magnus pursed his lips as he contemplated and nodded again in agreement. "Looking at the recording of the race, it is easy to see that the Lightwoods' horse was at fault." He paused. "But it is also evident that you have an exceptionally gifted horse here," he patted Caspian's neck.

"Thank you," Amatis said, getting his attention.

He smiled again. "You wouldn't be interested in selling him, would you?" he raised a well-defined eyebrow quizzically.

Clary's blood went cold and she stopped breathing for a moment as she took in what he said. She had known that if they didn't get enough money to cover their debts they would sell him, but making a deal right after a race that he showed great promise in? That would be one of the worst decisions in Amatis and Luke's lives if they agreed. He could be invaluable to them in more ways than one. Clary knew that Amatis was feeling the stress of being in so much debt, but she couldn't possibly sell him after such a race. _Could she? _she thought. She had heard how desperate Amatis and Luke were when they had talked about it. She caught Amatis's eye and gave her an anxious glance, silently pleading for her not to give up on him.

After a few moments, Amatis looked away from Clary and back at Magnus.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't for sale," she said simply. Clary had to bite her lip to keep from smiling and jumping up and down like an idiot.

Magnus, who had missed the silent conversation between the two women flashed her a wide grin. "Alas! There are other fish in the sea," he shrugged delicately before he turned to Luke once more.

"I will tell the board that the Lightwoods' horse and jockey were at fault." He held out his hand and Luke grasped it firmly. "Congratulations!" he flashed another vibrantly white smile as he nodded to the group and left.

Clary ran to her aunt and uncle, hugging them both tightly as she squealed with happiness. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumped up and gave Luke a kiss on his stubbly cheek. She stepped back, still smiling, and looked back over to the paddock where Jace stood against the white fence. She needed to tell him the good news.

"Clary." It was Luke. She turned back to him.

"Yeah?"

"You do know that this win won't get us out of this right? We're gonna have to really get down to business," he said.

"I know that, and I can help out too. I mean, since you fired John, I could get my license and be our own jockey. You won't even have to pay me!" she laughed, happy that she had thought of such an ingenious plan.

Amatis spoke up. "Clary it's dangerous."

"No, Am, I think it's a great idea," Michael disagreed. Amatis opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her. "Yes, I know she's young but she's been an exercise rider for nearly eight years. She should take this next step." He smiled at Clary. "Plus, the connection that she has with Caspian would be great on the track."

After a bit of persuasion, she finally gave in since the discussion was four against one. Just then, the announcer came back onto the loud speaker, the man's voice flooding out and over the mass of people who were still awaiting the verdict.

"On account of a foul, horse Saratoga and his rider, Sebastian Verlac, are disqualified." A few shouts of anger came from somewhere in the crowd. The announcer continued. "Caspian and his jockey John Newman, placing second, are now awarded first place by default!" The rest of the crowd cheered loudly while their small group breathed a sigh of relief.

""""""""

About an hour after entering the winners circle, claiming their winnings, and going to the jockeys office to sign up for her license test, they started packing up their things and loading it into the trailer. Clary was struggling to lug a particularly heavy feed bag to the back of the truck when two large hands shot out to hold the bag for her. She looked up and saw Jace easily carrying the bag and the saddle which he had already been carrying with just his arm strength.

"Steroids," she grumbled beneath her breath. He stepped up and into the trailer.

"What?" he asked her as he placed the feed down and hung up the saddle on the rack.

"Nothing," she said innocently.

He smirked at her, jumping off the short ledge and onto the ground. "Really? It doesn't sound like nothing."

She shrugged nonchalantly as she turned away from him and started walking in the opposite direction. "What did it sound like then?" she teased him.

"You tell me."

His voice was right in her ear, low and soft. She spun around, still not used to the whole ninja thing that he had going on.

"Jeez!" She gave his hard stomach a shove. "You need a bell around your neck or something," she joked.

He laughed. "Yeah, I'll be your pet cat," he said, watching her between his thick lashes. "But I promise I won't bite."

He was much happier now, she noticed. And with good reason too. He could stay with the Garroway's longer now that her aunt and uncle had officially decided that they weren't going to sell the farm. Even just thinking about it made her want to dance or sing or something to get this newfound energy out. She felt so relieved; like a gigantic weight had been lifted off of her chest and now she could finally breathe. Knowing that she had her license, and Jace and Caspian were there to stay was wonderful. She felt like things were closer to what they had been when, in reality, they were still far from it. She knew that they had so many repairs to make at the farm, and that the money they had just won would disappear faster than they had gotten it. But she was ready for what was coming; she had a confidence in herself and Caspian that told her that things would soon be changing for the better at Morningstar.

_

* * *

_

Review pretty please!

_If you do, Jace will bite you ;)_


	7. Chapter 7

_I posted my ideas of what the characters look like on my profile. Check it out if you want :) And sorry about last chapter… it was really short. But this one's longer so it should make up for it! Enjoy!_

_The only time I own the Mortal Instruments is when I'm dreaming. _

* * *

On the way back home Clary, who had gotten close to no sleep the past week, was conked out in the back seat of Amatis's Jeep. The dull hum of the old engine had lulled her into a peacefully dreamless sleep. She had her head rested against the window, her breath fogging up the cold glass that was freckled with beads of rain with each of her steady exhales. Amatis drove quietly as Jace sat next to Clary on the back seat.

As he watched her sleep, he wished that she would move to rest her head on him like she had the other night, her soft auburn curls billowing down her delicate shoulders. Looking at her, he felt the same feeling that he had that night; that pulling feeling in the center his chest. He had only just realized what it was while he was at the track. He wasn't sure if it was love, not yet. Knowing someone for a week wasn't enough time to feel love. But already things were moving fast; he had never become so dependent on anyone this quickly and it made him uneasy. He had always known the people he loved to end up hurting him in some way. This new feeling he had was entirely foreign to him. He just didn't know how to handle it.

The Jeep pulled into the long packed-dirt driveway behind the truck holding Michael, Luke, and Simon. The slight bump at the beginning of the drive shook Clary from her restful sleep. She blinked her slightly puffy eyes a few times before she focused them on her surroundings. The tall sugar pines loomed over the wet drive in rows as, behind them, the white slatted fences continued in a consistent line. Within them stood many of the farms horses as they grazed on the wet grass contentedly, a light rain soaking their backs. _Home, _she thought.

Amatis pulled up to the house and cut off the tired engine as Clary stretched her arms and yawned widely, a small tear trickling out of the corner of her eye. She immediately noticed that Jace was there beside her when he brought his finger up to catch the droplet of moisture as it fell down her cheek. She watched him as he looked at his finger for a moment before he gingerly wiped it off on his dark jeans. He lifted his head again to look at her.

"Have a nice sleep?" His eyes oozed a molten gold.

She stumbled a bit on her words. "I… uh, yeah."

"Good," he smirked at her, opening his door and stepping out.

She sat for a few seconds as she tried to collect her thoughts from the jumbled mess that Jace had left them in. She had thought that he was upset with her while they were at the track, but that was clearly not the case. The way he had caught her tear and looked at it with something near reverence was odd, but also very sweet. _Maybe he… _she thought quickly but, deciding that she was imagining things, she jumped out her own door and landed lightly on the dirt.

As she rounded the Jeep she saw Michael unloading Caspian off of the trailer while Simon and Jace brought some of the equipment into the barn. She rushed to go help them out, still thinking about Jace's mind-set.

She yanked a bale of hay off of the trailers compartment as she thought of the possible things he had wanted to say to her. _Did he want to tell me he was going to miss me? Or maybe my hair was just messed up or something… _She flattened her curls with her palms self-consciously. There as a part of her that thought that he could have wanted to confess his feelings for her, but she was quick to quell her hopes. Someone as good-looking as him wasn't supposed to like the short and awkward redhead with freckles. He was supposed to date the tall, statuesque blondes with big boobs. Clary had only just begun to start seeing her boobs last year. Still, she thought she was small, awkward and overall nothing much to look at.

Leading Caspian back to his stall after a short walk and an excellent congratulations speech, she shut the door and scratched his nose with the tip of her fingernail through the black metal bars.

"Good job, buddy," she cooed.

"Thanks, I try."

She spun around at the unexpected voice and fell into Jace. He caught her quickly, his arms resting a little bit longer than necessary to right her. She looked up into his eyes, noting the gold that swam within their shiny depths. He held her for a moment, her face blushing a furious scarlet.

"Whoa, there," he said, flashing his beautifully white smile.

She couldn't help but to stare at him stupidly. The effect that he had on her was astonishing; he could make her forget her train of thought within seconds. She shook her head, clearing her mind. He laughed at her dazed expression.

"What did you want to tell me at the track?" she blurted.

"Nothing," he stepped away from her and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Clary noticed the way that the movement made him stand taller and show off his strong upper body. Her blushes became deeper as she felt like more of a fool. He hadn't wanted to say anything to her back at the track. She must have been imagining the desperate look that he had had on his face. _Then again…_

"Are you sure? You seemed… different."

He paused and shifted his weight a little nervously. She raised a disbelieving eyebrow; Jace had never gotten nervous. "I just wanted to tell you that your fly was undone, but," he looked down at her faded jeans, "_that_ problem seems to be fixed."

Her face heated up again. _Oh my God._ She looked down quickly, making sure that her zipper was done up, and it was. But she couldn't believe that all he had wanted to tell her was that. He had to have wanted to say something different. People just don't look that earnest when they are telling someone that their zipper was undone.

"But-"

"Look, I gotta go, um, call my parole officer," he said quickly as he cut her off, pointing behind himself with his thumb. "See you."

And with that, he left for the direction of the guest house.

"What?" she said to herself confusedly as she watched him nearly run away from her. She hadn't known him long but she'd spent enough time with him to notice that he never was uncomfortable in conversations; if he was, he certainly didn't show it. He was always sarcastic and self-assured when he spoke. Today, he was doing the exact opposite. Besides the sarcastic part that is. Clary figured that was a permanent part of his persona no matter what his mood was that day.

She walked back to the trailer and started putting away more of the equipment. When she finished she started to clean Caspian's bridle with the tin of saddle soap that smelled like jasmine, and a wet rag. But the mundane task of cleaning tack wasn't enough to keep her thoughts off of Jace.

_Maybe he's just stressed out._ _I mean, we all are. _The entire family had gone through a roller coaster ride of ups and downs. She couldn't blame him if he was acting a little different because of the new arrangement to stay; he had thought that he was going back to jail one second and then heard that he would be able to stay a Morningstar the next. The major change in course even gave her a headache.

But Jace could handle stress well; better than she could at least, so it couldn't have been that. The tiny little annoying voice in the back of her head kept telling her it was something different, only she didn't believe it. She didn't want to hope that something could happen between the two of them because if she allowed herself to hope it probably wouldn't happen.

_What about the race today?_ she questioned herself. She had hoped that Caspian would win and he did, even though it was by default. If only boys were as black and white as horseracing she would be able to understand them. Jace had way too much gray for her to handle.

She scrubbed at the leather of the brow band quickly, causing white foam to build up in the little crevices of the leather stitching. Sighing, she tossed the rag into the corner of the tack room and hung the bridle on the rack beside her, frustrated. She scraped her boots against the cement floor of the barn as she walked out, saying a quick goodbye to Caspian as he looked up from munching on his hay.

As she neared the house she heard the sound of an engine coming up the drive. She looked behind her and saw the small black convertible Porsche that could only signify that one of the Lightwoods were visiting. She grumbled, not wanting to hear fake apologies from them.

But as the V6 engine skidded to a halt in front of her she saw who sat in the driver's seat.

"Isabelle!" she called excitedly. Clary hadn't seen or spoken to her in years. Isabelle had left to go to Paris, France with her grandmother, a famous fashion designer. While Isabelle had been modeling for her grandmothers agency, Clary had gotten out of touch with her. This unexpected visit was something she definitely needed; she hadn't had any good girl talk for the past two years.

Isabelle stepped out of the car with a flourish of her arm. "The one and only!" she said throwing her hip to the side animatedly. She giggled as she took off her huge sunglasses revealing her ice blue eyes that she had gotten from her mother.

"Oh my God! I haven't seen you in forever!" Clary rushed up to her and they gave each other a tight hug as they both laughed.

"Jeeze, I know!" she stepped back. "I just got into L.A. the other day and I figured 'hey, why not go see my favorite redhead?'" She flashed her perfectly white and straight teeth in a breathtakingly beautiful smile.

"Are you staying long?" Clary asked hopefully.

Isabelle scowled. "I am, but that's only because my bitch of a mother is making me. She claimed that she was 'worried' about me when I was gone." She huffed disbelievingly and gave a dramatic eye roll before she continued. "She's part of the reason why I'm here. I mean, like what the hell was that at the track?"

Clary raised her eyebrows. "Wow, news travels fast."

"Well, I was on the phone with Aline and she had seen the whole thing," Isabelle shrugged. "Anyways, spill."

As they both walked into the house Clary told her everything that had happened at the track. She skipped over the parts with Jace not wanting to talk about him. They sat in the living room as Clary gave her a play by play on the race, Isabelle hanging onto her every word.

When Clary told her about how Caspian was bumped, she gasped. "Oh my gosh, is he alright?"

"Yeah, just a bruise," she assured her. "But your mothers jockey and horse were disqualified for intentional fouling."

"Good. She deserves it. Knowing her she probably saw that Caspian was a contender and told that Sebastian guy to shut him out so that they could win," Isabelle said knowingly. She had always had her mother down to a science.

"Ugh. I don't even want to waste my energy on this anymore. What else is there to talk about?" Clary asked, needing to hear something that didn't involve her own life.

Isabelle immediately launched herself into a story about one of the fashion shows that she had been in. As she delved further into the story she slipped off her four inch spiked heeled leather boots, which made her look about six-two, and curled up her long toned legs, clad in skintight skinny jeans, onto the patterned couch. Clary was envious of her height but she also knew that Isabelle was envious of hers; she had always wanted to be short, not the tall Amazon that she was.

"And then the girl fell, right on the runway!" Isabelle laughed excitedly with the end of her long story.

"Well, you know karma…" Clary said.

"Yeah, she's even more of a bitch than I am."

Clary laughed, knowing that Isabelle could be very mean to girls that backstabbed her or her friends.

They shared stories from the past and talked about new things that were happening in their lives. For instance, Isabelle had been invited to a meeting with the CoverGirl Cosmetics agency in New York to discuss a contract, but because she was still seventeen and still a minor, she couldn't go without her mother's permission. It was exciting to hear that Isabelle's career was looking up, but the fact that her mother was hindering her talent was stopping her from living up to her full potential.

"I just got my jockey's license," Clary added conversationally. "So now I can ride for Morningstar and we won't have to pay anything 'cause money's tight right now." She had started out happy but by the end of the sentence her voice was somber.

"That's great! I always pictured you being a professional, even when we were ten and just learning to ride together," Isabelle said, and the two girls smiled at their old memories together.

"And don't worry about the money, things will work out somehow," she said comfortingly. Often times, Clary didn't believe it when people said that, but when Isabelle said it; she could believe her.

"Anyway, enough with the sad," Isabelle said, hopping up and off the couch and pulling Clary with her. "Do you have your eyes on someone special? Maybe… Simon?"

"Ew, no, he's like a brother Isabelle!" Clary protested, giving her a slight whack with the back of her hand as she scrunched up her face in dislike.

"Just saying! I mean he has gotten taller… and he doesn't have those zits anymore…" she trailed off suggestively.

"No, I definitely don't like _him _that way." She emphasized the word him and immediately wished she hadn't.

"So there is another _him_ that you like that way?" Isabelle probed as Clary blushed crimson. "There is! Tell me, tell me, tell me!" She was hopping on her tiptoes as she waited for her to answer.

"Jeeze Isabelle! Fine. Yes, I do like someone, but he doesn't like me like that," she looked down, embarrassed. Her face heated up again.

"Who? Do I know him?" Isabelle could be very nosy.

"Um, no you don't. He's new here."

"'New' as in new to the area?"

"No, he, uh, kinda sorta lives… here." The unfailing blush colored her cheeks again.

"In the guest house?" Understanding crossed her features before she gave a wide grin. "Oooh, get that Clary, get that!" she teased her good-naturedly.

"Be quiet," Clary mumbled.

"Oh come _on_, Clary. I have to meet this guy," she insisted. Clary instantly didn't want her to meet him. With her good looks Jace would be all over her, as any guy would.

"But he's-"

"Nope. I'm going to the cabin right now." She marched to the front door in her stocking feet and thrust it open as Clary followed after her. She stepped onto the porch and took off her socks, not wanting them to get dirt on the bottom, and balled them up in her fist. She continued down the steps.

"Isabelle, I don't know if he wants to see anyone. He's kind of in a weird mood today." Clary was rushing to catch up with her the size of her model strides.

"He has to greet a guest doesn't he? I mean, he does _live_ here," Isabelle giggled. She jumped up the four steps and onto the little porch of the guest house.

"Isabelle." Clary grabbed her arm and turned her around before she was able to knock on the old wooden door.

"Hmm?"

"Just-"

Clary never got to finish her sentence. Jace came to the front door while holding the t-shirt that he wasn't wearing. His curly blond hair was still damp from his shower. She stared stupidly at his muscled chest and the tattoos that covered his skin as he looked at both girls suspiciously. He furrowed his brows in confusion at Isabelle.

"Yeah?"

Isabelle turned back to the door and when she saw him her eyes raked over his chest like Clary had done. The only difference was that she recovered her composure faster.

"Hi, I'm Isabelle, a friend of Clary's," she tried to hold back her girly laughter as she extended her hand.

"Hey," he said to her as he shook her hand hurriedly. He looked past her to Clary. "I have to go get the shipment of grain with Luke."

"Oh, um, yeah, sure, OK, yeah," Clary nodded, feeling like smacking herself for being so shy. She didn't know why she couldn't form a coherent sentence when he was near her.

He quickly pulled the t-shirt on over his head and stepped past Isabelle with a slight nod of farewell. When he passed Clary, she couldn't help but notice the electricity that passed through her when his chest slid across hers as he tried to maneuver through the small space.

"See you later, Clary," he said as he jogged to meet Luke who had his truck idling near Isabelle's Porsche. The difference between the two vehicles was startling.

When the truck sped down the driveway, Clary turned to see a grin plastered on Isabelle's face.

"You were wrong," Isabelle said as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Huh?" Clary was confused.

"About him not liking you. You were wrong."

"Really, what makes you think that, Miss 'I Know Everything'?"

"My boobs are like hanging out in this shirt!" She stuck out her chest to prove her point. "He didn't even notice them, he noticed you," she said, giving Clary a reassuring smile.

Clary sighed. "That doesn't mean he _likes _me."

Isabelle pouted. "Well, it's not a bad sign. And stop being so down on yourself, Clare-bear," she said, throwing her arm over Clary's shoulder.

"OK, so you met him. Can we not talk about him anymore?"

"OK…" Isabelle paused before she smiled deviously. "But he is _hot!_"

Clary cracked a smile at her silly expression as the two walked off the porch and onto the still wet grass.

~oOo~

Isabelle ended up staying for dinner that night, leaving directly afterward after a scathing phone call from her irate mother about her whereabouts. Isabelle was well known to forget to mention where she was or where she was going to her parents and she got into often got them angry at her. But she didn't care; she hated her parents and their 'better than everyone else' attitude. She had told Clary once that she thought Alec had gotten all of the evil from their parents, leaving her with none.

Clary enjoyed her company; she was so different from Simon. Where Simon was more chilled out and shy, Isabelle was always up for anything and was never unsociable. Her attitude brought Clary out of the shell that she had around herself, protecting her from hurt. She knew it shouldn't hinder her but it was hard for her to trust people after what had happened to her parents. As it was, she only really trusted her family, Simon, and Isabelle. She was on her way toward trusting Jace, but his lightning quick mood changes always made her stumble back.

She just never knew what to expect with him. She never knew if she was going to get silly and sarcastic Jace or the Jace that was brooding and closed off. After what Isabelle had said about him liking her, she was hyperaware of how he would look at her when she thought she wasn't looking over the next few days. He wouldn't have conversations with her, just small hello's and goodbye's. She wondered if maybe he had wanted to leave Morningstar and go somewhere different. He wasn't getting paid, and the work was grueling in the dry heat that took over after the days of humidity and rain. The thought made her sad. She wanted to get to know him more, to see why he acted the way he did. But she couldn't do that if he was avoiding her.

Clary pulled her long curly hair back into a high ponytail, the way that Isabelle had shown her to make her cheekbones standout more. She moved to her dresser and pulled out a pair of breathable jeans, trying to beat the sweltering heat. She wore an old tank top with a band logo on it as she walked out her bedroom door and past the kitchen to the front door.

As she looked out over yard she saw the usual happenings; hands were helping out to clean the barn, some horses were being exercised, and a load of hay was being delivered again. The only difference was the large and shiny new trailer that was parked near the barn. Beside the trailer stood Luke, Michael, and a woman that she didn't know. She furrowed her brows and went to investigate.

Walking up to the group she overheard some laughter and free flowing chit-chat. She looked from Luke to the new woman that stood to her left.

"Oh! Hi, Clary. This is Kristen McGregor. Kristen, this is my niece Clary Fray," he gestured to her proudly.

"Clary, it's so wonderful to meet you." The woman smiled warmly. "I have heard a lot about you," she said as she looked to Michael.

Michael grinned at her. "Yep, we were actually just talking about you Clary. It seems like Ms. McGregor is interested in boarding some of her horses here."

"Michael was just telling me about your riding. You just got your jockeys license?" Ms. McGregor inquired.

"Yeah, I did," Clary said with a smile. She was so happy that she had finally gotten it and she couldn't wait to get out on the track for real.

"I was wondering if maybe you would like to jockey for my horses."

Clary was taken aback. She hadn't expected the woman to ask her this especially since she was new to the scene and also because she hadn't even seen her ride yet.

"I, um, sure. But, ah, don't you want to see me ride first?" she asked.

"Oh, of course!" the woman exulted.

Luke turned to Clary. "Why don't you and I go get Kaleidoscope? She hasn't been worked yet this morning."

As the two of them left into the shade of the barn, they heard Michael and Kristen pick up the conversation from before with many giggles and smiles on Ms. McGregor's side.

"I'll go get her tack, you just pull her out." Luke hurried down the wide hall.

Clary nodded and went to the tall horses stall, opening it and patting her smoke gray coat. "Hey, Kali." The horse nickered in greeting as she nuzzled Clary's pockets. Knowing that she wanted a treat, she pulled a peppermint out of her pocket and opened the wrapper, the rustling of the paper causing the filly's ears the prick forward attentively. She laughed as her soft muzzle brushed against her open palm as she licked up the sugary treat.

Once she brought out the horse and Luke helped her tack her up, they walked out and onto the track with Luke and Michael. Amatis joined them to watch Clary ride. Feeling a little put on the spot, Clary shifted uneasily in the saddle. Even some of the workers had stopped to watch. She supposed she would have to get used to big crowds watching her seeing as she would soon be on a real racetrack with an even larger crowd staring at her.

Clary maneuvered Kaleidoscope into the center of the track and looked to Michael for the signal. He seemed to be caught up in a conversation with Ms. McGregor though. Luke whistled for Clary's attention and she darted her eyes to him. He held out the stopwatch in his calloused hand, before he yelled, "Go!"

It was much different riding Kaleidoscope than it was riding Caspian. Although she liked Kali and thought that she was a great horse, she was a lot less exciting to ride. The horse was very sure about her movement, never taking any risks unless she was prompted with the sting of a whip on her rear end. She did have a longer stride than Caspian though, considering she was about three hands taller than he was. Nonetheless, Clary still made the best of it and made it around the track in a minute and thirty-nine seconds, slowing down to a trot as she went around the track once to cool Kaleidoscope off. With this heat, straining a horse wasn't a good idea.

As Clary hopped off and landed onto the ground, Luke, Michael, and Ms. McGregor walked up to her giving her praise. Kristen solidified her request for Clary to ride for her into a demand. She wouldn't take no for an answer. Not that Clary would decline; this was a good way to get money for the ranch and to help her gain experience on the track.

The adults began to talk about the cost of boarding and feed for how long Ms. McGregor was planning on staying and Clary tuned them out. She looked past the group and saw Jace shoveling manure off in the paddock. She quickly excused herself, saying she needed to use the ladies room.

She jogged up to the white fence and jumped up onto it, sitting on the topmost board as she swung her legs and waited for Jace to notice her. Although he was wearing his usual jeans and a fitted t-shirt, just looking at him made Clary's heart rate elevate nervously. As he stood taller to dump the contents of the shovel into the wheelbarrow, he swiped his arm across his forehead and blew out a gust of air. He looked so tired.

He turned, noticing Clary sitting just two feet away from him atop the fence. He jumped, startled.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Uh, hi."

She started to swing her legs again. "What's up?"

"I'm shoveling horse shit," he deadpanned. "You?"

"I'm waiting for you to stop being so mumblygrumbly."

He looked up from his shoveling. "'Mumblygrumbly'? That's not even a word."

"Aha!" She jumped off the fence and into the paddock. "So you're not denying it!"

"First off, I don't even know what that means so, I can't deny it," he said as he looked away from her and back at his work.

"It means you're being very…" she paused, thinking. "Well, I don't really know."

He smirked as he shoveled. "You're crazy."

She sighed. "Look, I just don't get why you're acting weird, OK?"

"I'm the one acting weird?" he raised his eyebrows. "What about mumblygrumbly?"

When he looked up at her she studied his face. The dark smudges underneath his golden eyes had become more prominent and the shine in his eyes had dulled. His skin didn't look as luminous as it had before either as he watched her carefully.

"You've been… avoiding me," she hesitated, nervous about his reaction.

He averted his gaze from hers. "No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have. I haven't been able to talk to you for days. You're always saying you're busy and can't talk," Clary said, trying to stop herself from pouting. She wanted to get back to the way things had been before.

"I _am_ busy," he thrust the shovel against the fence. "I do work here you know."

She stared at him. "You don't always have to be working though," she said as she stepped closer to him, trying to prove her point. "What are you trying to prove?"

He scowled at her. "I'm not trying to prove anything. Can't you just get off my case?"

"Sorry, but no. You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. She could see the muscles in his jaw jumping angrily. He stood like that for a minute or two, and Clary was about to say something but he finally spoke.

"I just don't want to mess up again."

Clary's eyes softened at the tone of his voice. He sounded defeated, like he was trying his hardest to do his best and he still wasn't satisfied with it. She hadn't known that he was so hard on himself.

"You won't."

"How do you know?" he said, as he looked down at her.

"Because I know you. You're not bad, you're good," she gave him a half smile.

He looked her straight in the eyes, his gaze sharpening from its dullness. "Clary, I-"

Luke was calling Clary over as he waved his hand to get her attention.

"I, sorry, I have to go," she stepped to the side awkwardly as she watched him lose the focus that he had on her.

"Sure, yeah, whatever," he said disappointedly as grabbed the shovel and continued working again.

Reluctantly, she left to go see what Luke needed her for. It seemed like every time Jace wanted to tell her something important, he got cut off for some reason. She would have to make sure that the next time she talked to him that he could really say what's on his mind and not worry about distractions. She had a feeling that she really wanted to know what he was going to say to her, but if things kept getting in the way she would never hear it. She trudged toward the group of adults that stood near Ms. McGregor's SUV.

Turns out Luke just wanted her to say good bye to the woman since she was leaving. But she was too preoccupied with flirting with Michael to really give her a proper goodbye. _Thanks a lot Luke, _she thought. She could have been talking with Jace. She turned back to the paddock to look for him, but as she scanned the pastures, she couldn't find him. _Great, probably hates me._ As the SUV sped down the drive, Clary dragged her feet up the porch steps and into the house where she collapsed onto the couch and screamed into a pillow.

* * *

_I wasnt too sure about where this chapter was going sooo... __Review, review review! _


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry times infinity! I have had the craziest week! I was so busy and I'm sorry but I just couldn't post any earlier (unless you guys wanted a really crappy 1000 word chapter…). But I just looked and I have sixty-four reviews! YAY! Thank you to everyone who is reviewing, favoriting, alerting, etc. You guys are all my little yogurt covered pretzels :) Go on and try them… they will literally change your life._

_No, silly, Cassandra Clare has RED hair. I, however, have brown hair. *lifts up a curl as evidence* See?_

* * *

All she could hear were steady snorts and the loud thudding of hooves as they shot down the long side of the track. She leaned forward and gave him some more rein to really stretch out on the last few lengths. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead underneath the protective helmet that she wore as the pair rocketed past Michael. After he clicked the stopwatch for their time, Clary relaxed her position and stood taller in the stirrups as she eased Caspian into a canter.

Before she even came near Michael she knew her time wasn't good. She had too much on her mind at the moment, most of it having to do with Jace. He hadn't talked to her at all since their argument in the beginning of last week and she was getting worried about him. She had seen him a few days ago with his eyes drooping from exhaustion as he ate his lunch on his porch steps. She knew that he wasn't getting much sleep but it was getting ridiculous at this point. She had wanted to try to have a conversation with him, but she was so busy now with training for the race in two weeks that there was practically no time for her to do anything else. As she trotted Caspian over to Michael he gave her their time.

"A minute forty-one."

Clary puffed out a sigh. That was three seconds longer than what Caspian had ridden on race day. She knew that Michael was disappointed in her by the look on his face. He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked out over the track.

"You got something on your mind?" he grunted as he cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes.

She didn't know if she should tell him the truth and pour out all of her boy problems to him or if she should just lie and say no. Bearing in mind that he mostly likely wouldn't know how to handle this kind of boy troubles, she chose the latter. "No," her voice came out as unconvincing as it sounded in her head. She peeled off her helmet and wiped her brow with her wrist.

She saw his eyes flicker to her from the track and she knew that he knew she was lying. He _always _knew. He pushed himself off of the fence and stood taller. "Well, whatever it is, you need to work it out before this next race 'cause right now, you're looking like you've just started learning this." He sounded almost angry with her, like he expected so much more out of her. Instantly, she felt that heavy feeling in her stomach. She was feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry. I… I think I'm just worried about my first race." This wasn't a lie, not at all. She was feeling terribly nervous about her debut as a professional jockey. She had been going down to the local track nearly every day at around four in the morning to get her name out there. She exercised horses mostly, trying to get a few owners to take a notice in her. Only a handful asked her if she would like to ride for them. The rest had all politely brushed her off as an inexperienced rider. Instead of putting her down, these rejections just made her want to work harder at it. But her working harder also cut into the time that she got to spend with Jace. Thus, she wasn't thinking about riding and she ended up actually doing worse than she would have had she not been working so hard. It was all very confusing- even to Clary, who it was happening to.

Michael gave her a knowing look. "Get it settled before next Wednesday, alright?"

She nodded slowly, staring at the ground as she shuffled her feet fretfully. She didn't want to disappoint him and she felt bad for doing so. Cas nudged her with the top of his nose.

"We'd better cool him off," he sighed. "He's done for today."

Michael took the reins from her hand and started leading Caspian in the direction of the barn. Clary walked a bit behind him as she kicked the packed dirt, sending puffs of silt into the air. She just didn't get why she was so concerned with Jace. _It's not like he's this interested in me, _she thought moodily. She wanted to be able to let it go and just focus on her riding, but there was also another part of her that wanted to keep tabs on him and make sure that he was OK.

Leading Caspian into the washroom, Michael took off Caspian's bridle and replaced it with a halter before he tied him to the crossties. He unhooked the girth and slid the saddle off of his back as he said, "You can handle the rest, can't you?" There was a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Clary looked up from the floor and gave him a small nod as she stepped forward to grab the hose. She let the cool water run over Cas's back as the thought. She had to go to the track today and ride for a few clients that were thinking about signing her. She wasn't sure if she'd be home early enough to even see Jace, let alone talk to him. She usually got home around eight at night, but by that time she was tired as hell and all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn't know how to make things work out.

As she put Caspian into his stall, the now familiar screech of Isabelle's tires against the gravel driveway echoed through the barn. Sliding the door shut quickly she hurried to go greet her. Clary emerged from the barn and saw Isabelle, in her stilettos, climbing out of the sleek car. Even though the heels on her shoes were about five inches, she didn't falter even one step as she walked over the rocky drive. Clary figured she probably had had to walk over even more uneven surfaces in her modeling experiences.

"Hey, Clary!" she said as she smoothed the front of her short and closely fitted cerulean dress which made her blue eyes stand out more than usual.

"Hey, what's up?" she was confused as to why Isabelle was wearing such an outfit to come here. Although she looked beautiful, she still looked severely out of place.

"Well, I just got back from a meeting that I had in Los Angeles," she gestured to her clothing. "And speaking of…" she lifted her leg and reached down to grab the heel of her shoe, sliding it off gratefully. She did the same to the other foot before she said, "Ah, much better." She curled her bare toes into the gravel.

Clary gave a small laugh. It was wonderful how comfortable Isabelle was at her house. _If only her house was as welcoming to me… _she thought. Clary had never been well liked by her parents and she hadn't been over to the Lightwoods' house in so long, that she couldn't remember what it looked like. But she was sure that the place had been redesigned many times since she had last seen it.

"So anyway," Isabelle started as they walked to the porch and sat on the swinging chair that was in the corner. "My mother called me and told me that she needed me to come here to invite you to the 'Annual Lightwood Gala'" She had made air quotations and changed the sound of her voice as she said it, sounding exactly like her mother as she did so.

Clary had been to one of these parties before. It was mostly rich horseracing families that went to brag about their horses and upcoming races. Although the food was delicious, the actual social aspect wasn't that entertaining for her or her family. But Clary needed something else to do for a day, she had doing nearly the same thing every day since the race; wake up, train Caspian, go to the local track, and sleep. Her life had become extremely boring to say the least.

"…and I figure that she just wanted me to ask you because her little plan to win two weeks ago didn't work and she wanted to get back on good terms," Isabelle was saying. Clary knew that she was probably right- Maryse Lightwood hated the Garroway's. She usually only invited families that were of higher profile to her parties so that everyone who's anyone would know about it. And seeing as how they had won their last race with an amazing finish, it put the family into a higher profile category. She was amazed at how vain and self-centered one person could be.

"Do _not_ feel like you have to come just because my family is hosting it," Isabelle continued. "I'm still trying to work on a good excuse to miss it."

"Uh, I actually might want to go," Clary said, watching Isabelle's perfectly shaped brows rise up past her bangs. "Well, you know, I haven't been out in a while so…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think I am. And besides, Amatis and Luke will go too just to be polite."

"Well it's this Saturday, so you and I have to go shopping!" she said enthusiastically.

Clary made a sour face. "I can't go today, 'cause I have to go to the track."

Isabelle's face darkened, but just as quickly she brightened with an idea. "Well, we can go tomorrow!" Instantly, her eagerness returned. She knew that Isabelle loved to shop and often bought expensive things, but Clary was never really into the whole dressing up thing. She usually only did it when she was persuaded and even then she thought she looked like she was trying to hard. Plus she didn't have the money to spend on something she didn't really need.

"I was thinking I would just wear the dress I wore last time…"

Isabelle looked appalled. "What! No! You can't do that. This party has a bunch of high power dudes there that could get into the business," she said knowingly. "You have to look professional. And besides, I'm pretty sure you've grown since the last one, that yellow dress wouldn't fit you."

Thinking more about it, Clary realized that she was right. She needed to look put-together for things like this if she was going to try to get anywhere. And, realizing that the last time that she had went to the gala she had been ten years old, she knew that she did indeed need to go shopping. She groaned.

"OK, fine. I'll go." She huffed. "But you have to drive me to the track. I have a ride at eleven."

She nodded vigorously as she gave her a wide grin and dangled her car keys from her delicate fingers painted with their shining silver nail polish. Clary could tell that she was stoked to go shopping with her tomorrow. They hadn't been in so long and shopping was definitely Isabelle's element. Clary could only hope that she would have fun too. Isabelle hopped across the drive to her Porsche and climbed in quickly. "Let's go!"

""""""""

The little sports car whipped around the sharp turn that led to the parking lot of the small facility. Isabelle maneuvered the car perfectly even at high speeds. She parked the car between two trucks and came to a screeching halt. Clary looked over at Isabelle and noticed her slightly pink cheeks and windblown hair. _Even when her hairs messed up she looks good, _she thought pessimistically. _On the other hand, my hair probably looks like I was just chewed up by a propeller on a jet airplane… _Not even bothering to look in the mirror, Clary hastily grabbed at the hair tie on her wrist and twisted it into her red curls.

"Do you ever drive at the speed limit?" Clary asked doubtfully.

Isabelle looked over at her from applying lip balm from a tube onto her full lips and scoffed. "Speed limit, shmeed limit." She popped the small tube into the center cup holder console. "Come on, I wanna see some riding!"

Still in her high heels, she stepped out of the car as Clary followed, chuckling. Isabelle had so much energy it was difficult to imagine her being lazy for once. The Isabelle that Clary knew was always so sure- never second guessing herself. Clary wished that she could be a little more like Isabelle in the sense of not caring what other people thought of her and just going with what she wanted instead of thinking about what everyone else needed.

They walked, or in Isabelle's case, glided, to the building. "I don't know if you want to go down to the locker room with me… it's kinda smelly," Clary said before she noticed that Isabelle was paying no attention to her. Her eyes were fixated on a boy about Isabelle's height with hair black as ink and eyes that were the same color. Underneath his navy racing silks Clary could tell that he was well muscled but the muscle he had was lean, not bulky. He was talking with a group of people as he stood not far away from a chestnut horse. Clary guessed that he was a rider, but it was rare to be a jockey if you were as tall as him. Five feet four and under was the usual height range simply because the weight limit was easier to handle at a short size. She had no idea how he was a hundred and thirty-four pounds. They approached the group that he was with and Isabelle's eyes tracked him as they walked by.

"Hello?" Clary shook her hand on front of Isabelle's face, breaking her trance. "Are you done drooling over him?" The boy was exactly Isabelle's type- the classic bad-boy all in shadows. Clary had to admit that he was attractive but he looked a bit scary to her.

"Huh? What? I totally wasn't drooling." She touched the corner of her mouth, making sure that she wasn't.

Clary raised her eyebrows and looked away as she smiled. "You thought he was cute."

"No," Isabelle broke out in a grin. "I thought he was hot." She turned to look back at him again. "Mhmm, definitely."

The group that stood around him broke up and he started walking in their direction as a worker led the horse into the barn. He held his head high as if he were superior to everyone as he sauntered over to the pair. As he passed the two of them, he glanced quickly over Isabelle- who stuck her chest out some and smiled at him- and his eyes came to rest on Clary. He gave her a slight head jerk and a cocky smirk as he swung open the heavy metal door to the locker rooms. Clary was very confused by the encounter. _What was that about?_

Isabelle knitted her brows together in puzzlement. Clary knew that it was usually quite easy for her to get guys to pay attention to her so it was very different for Isabelle to be disregarded so blatantly. But Clary was also confused. _Why did he pay attention to me?_ She looked over at Isabelle.

"Uhm… I have no idea what that was about."

Isabelle gave a sigh as she shrugged lightly. "Eh, whatever. Just go downstairs and change, it's almost eleven. I'm going to go sit on the bleachers and watch." She smiled as she went off to get a seat close to the track. It wouldn't be difficult considering no one was here today besides a few jockeys, trainers, and owners.

Clary turned and hefted the door open before she descended to old steps, whose white paint was chipping off from wear to show the gray underneath. It was obvious that this place was much less professional than the San Luis Rey Downs facility about two hours away. But it would do for her purposes. She walked down the steep steps carefully, not wanting to fall down in case her clumsiness wanted to make an appearance.

When she descended the last step, she looked up from watching her feet and nearly collided with the boy. His dark hair fell into his eyes which glimmered with amusement. She could barely even see his pupils as she stared at him stupidly.

"Uh, sorry…" she moved to walk past him but he caught her arm quickly. His grasp was unfamiliar and immediately made her tense. He gave her another cocky grin, oblivious to the fact that she was very uncomfortable with him this close to her.

"Your name's Clarissa." He said it as a statement, not a question. Clary had no idea how he knew her name, she didn't even know his. She hesitated a moment before answering.

"H-how do you know my name?" She stuttered, baffled that he somehow knew her.

"Well, I'm Sebastian. Sebastian Verlac," he said, seemingly thinking that this would be the answer she was looking for. It wasn't. She looked at him, bewildered, as he crinkled his brow. "I rode Saratoga in that race a few weeks ago?"

Anger and realization colored her features but they were covered quickly by a mask of slight surprise. "Ah, so you're the one that almost made my horse lame." Even though her she worked to keep her features calm, her voice betrayed her efforts sounding hard and forced.

He blinked innocently as his face went blank. "That was an accident but I am so very sorry for any damage Saratoga might have caused." One corner of his mouth lifted up in a half smile. "You see, he was a bit jittery that day."

Clary didn't believe him for a second. She could tell just by looking at him that he was very untrustworthy, his body language said it all. He was too calm as he talked about it considering he almost got his license revoked, and his blank expression did nothing to help his cause. Just looking at him made Clary want to punch him, and she wasn't a violent person. She was shocked by the sudden and overwhelming urge to cause him as much pain as he had caused Caspian.

Not wanting to risk speaking to him and saying what she was really feeling, she nodded stiffly and tried to get past him again. He only stepped in front of her, blocking her way to her locker, as he gave her arm a slight squeeze.

She huffed. "I am in a bit of a hurry," she said through half clenched teeth. Again, he took no notice of her mood.

"I hear you and your family have been invited to the Lightwoods' Gala this Saturday." He smiled showing a set of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. "Will I be seeing your beautiful face there?" Clary resisted the urge to gag. _This guy is ridiculous. _

"Yeah, I'm going," she said tiredly. She glanced at where he had his hand on her arm. His long fingers wrapped around the entire circumference of her wrist easily.

"Then, I won't keep you any longer." He looked down at her with an illusory warm smile as he bowed his head and brought her hand up his lips. "Until then." He looked up at her from under his lashes and brushed his lips against her hand in a kiss, causing unwanted goosebumps to erupt on her flesh. As he turned to leave she quickly took her hand back and wiped it on her jeans. _Creep. _He was extremely forward and Clary did not like it at all.

She didn't understand how he could think that she would just forget what he did in the race. She was sure that it wasn't an accident; anyone could tell that it was intentional if they saw it. If he thought that she was going to forgive and forget, he was sadly mistaken. She held grudges longer than anyone she knew.

Trying to stop thinking about him, she quickly moved to her locker- number 3713- and opened it with the little brass key from her jeans pocket. She took out the uncomfortably tight black riding pants and a lime green sports tank top, getting dressed as quickly as possible. She thought she looked foolish all in tight clothing but she didn't bring anything else to wear so she would have to make do with it.

She emerged from the locker room to find that Mr. Penhallow, the man that she was riding for, was already waiting for her with what looked to be his trainer and his horse, Drechsler. This group was one of higher importance to her considering this man had won many races over his career and this horse was expected to do very well in his next race based on his bloodlines. Just walking up to them she had a fluttery feeling in her stomach.

The man was an average height with dark hair and hazel eyes. He wore a lavish-looking suit made of a fawn colored fabric. HE had his Blackberry glued to the side of his jaw as Clary approached him and tugged her helmet onto her head and fiddled with her whip. She waited patiently as he discussed something over the phone.

"No. I don't wanna even hear about him." He paused listening into the device. "I left Brooklyn for a reason, Pete." He paused again, but this time his jaw clenched and his face hardened. He was irritated but his voice sounded composed and businesslike. "Yes I know I do. I'll get it after this next race."He took the phone away from his ear after a hasty goodbye to the caller. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he seemed to be getting himself under control before he talked to Clary.

"You ready now?" he sighed impatiently.

Clary blinked. "Uh, yeah." She shifted her weight onto her hip, trying to get comfortable in her new pair of boots.

"OK then, take him around slow but give him rein in the last stretch. I want him to save his energy." He gave her a pointed look. "Alright?"

She nodded silently before she started towards his horse. She wasn't all too sure about how to pronounce his name so she had taken to calling him Dreshy for short. The horse was a stark white with splotches of a dark brown near his hooves. He looked different than most horses but Clary figured that it was an advantage. It would get him noticed more and bring more publicity to himself.

Already having ridden Dreshy, she knew what to expect from him. She knew that he was a lazy starter and he usually need a bit of the whip to get him going, but as soon as he did he was like the energizer bunny; he would have to be reined in tightly for him to hold onto his energy because it never stopped afterwards. Clary pulled herself up and shifted herself in the saddle as a worker led her and Dreshy to the track.

The man's phone rang again, calling his attention away from her. She wondered distantly what the first phone call had been about. It had sounded like he had used to live in Brooklyn, which was a coincidence, but she had no idea about what he was getting after the next race or why he had suddenly seemed angry while talking. She also was wondering about the man that he didn't want to talk about. Was the man on the phone angry with him, or was Mr. Penhallow angry with him? She knew that she really shouldn't have eavesdropped but she was a nosy person, there was nothing she could do about it.

She lifted off of the saddle, ready for the sound of the bell to signal their departure, still wondering about that mysterious conversation.

""""""""

"You look _hot!" _Isabelle exulted over a particularly short and form fitting dress that Clary wore very uncomfortably. She was feeling like a Barbie doll this afternoon; Isabelle had been thrusting dress after dress at her for her to try on for the past three hours. Still, she had found nothing that she felt comfortable in. Isabelle's picks were either too short or the neckline was too low and showed off her particular lack of any cleavage. The dress that she was wearing now had a high neckline but the hem was six times shorter than the last dress she had tried on. She felt as if she was in only wearing a shirt with no pants. It was not a contented feeling.

She sighed and pulled at the bottom of the dress self-consciously. "Uh, Isabelle? I kinda think that this party calls for formal wear not _club wear," _she said, whispering the last part.

"Oh, come on," Isabelle clucked her tongue. Clary gave her an incredulous look. "OK, so I got a little carried away," she opened her arms wide, gesturing to the large designer store around her. "I mean, look at this place! There's too much to choose from!"

And there was. They had been in the same store for an hour and she hadn't found anything that would even come close to something that she liked. She had never thought that she was a picky person but it seemed that she actually was. She twisted herself around in the 360 degree mirror getting a good look at the garment. It was far from resembling something that she would wear. It was a shade of bubble gum pink and it was encrusted with sequins. She looked and felt like a lit up Christmas tree.

"One thing's for sure- I'm definitely not wearing this thing anywhere ever in my life," she moved to the curtained dressing room and started to peel off the tight fabric. She heard Isabelle sigh and sit on one of the plush chairs outside of the heavy curtain. "Maybe we should just go back home. If I haven't found anything here, I won't find anything."

"You'll just have to borrow something of mine, I guess," Isabelle replied sounding disappointed. Clary knew just how much she liked to buy new clothing. It must have been quite the letdown for her not to find anything she liked. She thrust the curtain open and buttoned her jeans. "Let's go, then."

As they walked out of the store, Clary looked longingly at the expensive dresses. She wished she could afford things like them but it just wasn't in the cards at this point. Maybe after she started making some money jockeying…

Passing another stores large glass windows, a dress caught her eye. It was simple and strapless, but elegant with its emerald green fabric flowing down from the bust line of the mannequin, to the floor where it settled just above the floor. Around the bodice were thin lines of gold wrapping delicately around its torso. Clary knew instantly that this was the dress that she wanted; she could see herself wearing it. Being the princess of the ball and dancing with her golden prince…

She hadn't realized that she had stopped to stare into the store window, and it was only brought to her attention when Isabelle called her over. She looked away quickly and motioned for Isabelle to join her. She approached with her spiked heels clacking against the pavement in the outdoor shopping plaza. As she looked into the window, Isabelle's mood shot back up to hyper.

"Oh. My. God. You would look _to die for_ in that dress! That green would totally make your eyes just… pow!" She made a bursting movement near her own eyes as she tried to explain.

Clary laughed. "You think so?" Taking a step closer to the window, she caught a glimpse of the tiny white price tag. Her heart sank. _Seven hundred and ninety-five dollars, _she thought dismally. She could never afford to buy it. Sighing, she turned away from the window and started walking again. "Let's forget about that one. It's way over my budget."

Suddenly, she was yanked by the arm and she stumbled back and into Isabelle's side. She held firm onto Clary's wrist as she nearly dragged her into the store. "Do you have no idea who I am, Clary? You do know that I am the _queen_ of negotiation don't you?" The many bangles on her wrists rang as the thin pieces of metal collided in her haste to bring Clary inside.

The dry heat of being outside on the dark pavement was switched with the cool air-conditioning of the small boutique. Clary glanced around at the different colored walls- orange, pink, green, and blue. Even thought the color choices were weird, they seemed put together with the drapes of golden beads hanging over them. She stared at clothes rack, after clothes rack, all which lined the walls and the little amount of floor space. "You don't have to do thi-" she started, but she was cut off by Isabelle's smooth voice talking to one of the store clerks.

"Hi there, my friend just saw that gorgeous green dress from the outside window. She was wondering if she might be allowed to try it on?" she said with a warm smile as she pointed to the glass pane. A few other people on the street had stopped to look at the luxurious garment.

The clerk woman smiled. "Of course. I can get one of our professional consultants to join you in the fitting room." She turned and looked towards Clary with an expectant expression for confirmation. She nodded slowly as she gave the woman a slight smile, still taken aback by Isabelle's sudden grab and go idea.

The woman led the two into one of the back rooms where she asked them to wait for their consultant, Fredric, to join them. Clary looked over at Isabelle to find her grinning like a fool. She was just trying the dress on to humor her; she knew that even with the greatest of bargaining techniques the dress still would never be within her budget.

They only had to wait about a minute before Fredric made his appearance. He wore a fitted mousy brown suit, which showed his extreme thinness, and a little purple scarf around his neck to accent the purple handkerchief in his breast pocket. His white blonde hair parted to the side, and his thick rimmed glasses gave him a very studious look.

"Heeeeeello girls!" He said energetically. "I believe you're interested in _this_ beautiful thing?"He pulled out the dress that was on a hanger from behind his back, making the fabric ripple and sway.

"Indeed, we are!" Isabelle played along in an equally excited voice. Fredric smiled widely as he looked to Clary.

He smoothed out the dress before he asked her, "If I'm not mistaken, this is for you?" Clary couldn't help but give a small laugh and smile back. She liked his pizzazz.

"Yes," she said, before he urged her to stand up from the comfortably cushy chair that she sat in, flapping his arms to motion her up.

"Come, come, come!"He gave her a slight nudge into the curtained changing room, "Here you go…" and draped the dress over her outstretched arms. The fabric was even smoother and softer than she had imagined by looking at it. She hung the dress on the wall hanger and started to unzip her jeans. She flipped her cotton t-shirt onto the floor, after taking off her old sneakers and setting them far away from the dress. She didn't want their dirt to somehow brush off on it.

Looking at the dress hanging on the wall, she could just see herself wearing it; the hem floating around as she danced. But it would only be complete if she had an equally good looking date… _Would he want to go?_ She wasn't sure if formal parties were Jace's thing, but she figured that she would never know unless she asked him. Rallying her courage, she decided that she would find him and ask him about it when she got home.

She slid the material over herself, and was shocked at how it moved like water on her skin. Allowing herself to get excited about the fact that she might be able to get it, she stepped out from behind the curtain as she held the back of the dress, unable to zip it up on her own.

Meeting her were two gasps of surprise. Clary looked around into their awed faces before she eagerly turned to the large floor-to-ceiling mirror beside them. Who she saw looking back at her was not the Clary she had seen before. This one looked tall, regal, and despite her mess of hair, beautiful. As she looked up to her wide eyes, she realized that Isabelle had been right; they shone brighter than before which make them look bigger than they actually were. She felt confident in the dress, which was definitely something new to her.

Fredric walked over to her silently and zipped up the back for her. The dress somehow fit perfectly on her; the green silk's pleats around the bustline cascaded down to where it pooled on the floor, and the bodice hugged to her curves and showed off what little of them that she actually had. Clary looked into the mirror again and saw that Fredric had his hand delicately covering his mouth.

"You look _beautiful," _he breathed. Clary's face instantly got heated and she looked down at her feet covered by the fabric. She hoped that Jace would think the same.

"We'll take it."

Isabelle's sure voice rang out. Clary looked up at her disbelievingly and she was about to protest when Isabelle interrupted her.

"Think of it as an early birthday present," she shrugged, smiling.

"Isabelle, you know that my birthday is in March."

She paused. "OK… it's a _really_ early birthday present." Clary gave her a doubtful look. "You deserve to get this, though! You got that Penhallow guy to sign you on as his jockey, and you've been working like a dog to get ready for your first race. I am buying this for you."

"Bu-"

"Nah-a-ah! No buts," she fished into her purse and pulled out the shiny gold credit card that Clary was sure Isabelle had put a lot of miles on. "Here you are Fredrick. Thank you for your help." She handed him the piece of hard plastic and he smiled before disappearing behind the doorway covered with beads, making them shake and brush against one another.

Clary looked disapprovingly at her. She didn't want Isabelle to pay for this dress and she definitely didn't want to owe her anything. "What happened to the _queen of negotiation?_"

Isabelle gave her an _isn't it obvious? _kind of look. "You don't negotiate when a dress looks that good. It's an insult to the designer." Clary raised an eyebrow but didn't push it- if Isabelle was set on something Clary knew damn well just to let her have it and not argue. She would never win.

She sighed thoughtfully. "Oh! Now you need some heels!"

Clary groaned.

""""""""

On the way home Isabelle played the stereo in the car on full blast, singing along with the songs that Clary had never even heard before. She couldn't help but smile with her- she enjoyed seeing Isabelle this happy. She had practically exploded with excitement when she saw a pair of particularly high golden strappy sandals but Clary was quick to tell her that she had no idea how to walk in them. Isabelle had settled on a pair with a shorter heel which made Clary ten times more comfortable.

The car came to a halt in the middle of the gravel drive, kicking up the pebbles as it stopped. The music was still playing loud as Isabelle reached behind her and passed the shoes bag to Clary who was getting out of the car.

"Oh! And don't forget to ask him!" Isabelle yelled over the sound of the heavy bass. Clary blushed and looked around to make sure that no one heard what she had said. She started second guessing her idea to ask Isabelle her opinion on the subject of inviting Jace, but glancing around some more, it seemed as if no one had heard. _Thank God._

Clary waved goodbye as Isabelle spun the car around and drove back in the direction she had come. She started hefting the bags toward the house as she thought about how she would ask him. Should she just ask him outright or should she build up to it? She didn't want to seem pushy about it- she didn't want to make him feel like he had to go. If he came because he wanted to go that would be great, but he was still avoiding her which made her think that he no longer even wanted to be friends. She sighed as she used her sneaker to push open the screen door.

"Amatis?" she called as the door flapped shut behind her. She walked through the kitchen and living room but found neither Amatis nor Luke. Checking to clock above the mantle, he saw that it was four thirty. _That's weird. _Usually at this time, Amatis or Luke were making dinner. She shrugged as she moved to her bedroom and set the large garment bag on the end of her bed along with the shoe box. Deciding to go look for everyone in the barn, she went back outside.

But when she got to the entryway, she saw no one in the large hallway. "Luke?" she called. There was a sound of something falling from above her in the hayloft. She furrowed her brows and went to go investigate.

"Luke? Are you up here?" she ascended the last step and came face to face with Jace. He was wearing a pair of thick gloves and he was holding onto a large bale of hay. His hair had bits of straw in it as well as his black t-shirt. Quickly forgetting about what he was wearing, she moved her attention to his face where she saw the same tired expression as he had been wearing for the past two weeks, only this time there was a hint of surprise in his topaz eyes.

He lips twisted into a half smile. "Nope. He's down by the far pasture with Amatis fixing the fence." Clary just kept staring at him as he pushed the bale over the edge of the landing. It connected with the floor in a soft thud. He turned back to her and waited. "I need to get by."

"Oh! Oh, yeah sorry." She blushed as she turned around and walked down the steps with caution- these steps were steep just like the ones at the track. Now would not be a good time for her to fall face first down the steps.

He passed by her when she got off the steps and went to pick up the hay and pile it on top of the others near the entryway. He hefted it up easily of the four that were already stacked as she watched. He started taking off his gloves and placed them on top of the hay.

"Do you need something?" he said, without looking at her directly.

She ignored him. "What's wrong with you?" Clary hadn't meant for it to come out like there really was something wrong with him, just that he was acting different.

He finally looked up at her with a hardened expression. "Well, some people think I have a lot wrong with me. On the other hand, others think there isn't anything wrong. It's a debatable subject."

Clary bit her lip uncertainly. She didn't understand him at all. Why couldn't he just admit that he was having a hard time? "I think that you're working too hard and you need to take a break."

His features softened minutely but his tone was sarcastic. "Really? And how would I go about _taking a break?_"

Immediately she thought about asking him to take the day of the party off. This wasn't exactly the best time to ask him but the party was in two days. She wondered what his reaction would be and she blushed scarlet. Would he think that she was asking him out or would he think that she is caring for his health? She knew that he noticed her face flush when his mouth twitched up into another half-smile. Inwardly, she cursed her easily colored skin.

"Well, there's this… thing on uh, Saturday… and um… ." She mumbled the last part under her breath, just wanting to get it out there. He looked at her in confusion.

"What?"

She sighed. This was becoming very awkward. "I was wondering if you would like to go with me?" She said each word carefully as she awaited his answer.

He looked away and put on his gloves again. "What is it?"

She blushed again and this time she was thankful that he was looking away. "It's kinda like a formal party thing? I guess? The Lightwoods have one every year…"

"So, you want to go on a date with me?" His tone was slightly cocky.

She blanched. "No! No, no. Well, not that you're not a- I just thought that- friends. Just as friends." She felt like a complete idiot. _Why can't I form words when I'm around him?_

He started picking at the stitching on the gloves. "I don't know about that."

Clary whooshed out the breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding. She should have been expecting him to say no since he hadn't talked to her in weeks. But still. He hadn't talked to her in weeks. He owed her at least some explanation as to why. She wasn't about to just take his answer and leave.

"Why not?" she said, almost angrily. He was surprised by the sudden change in her tone.

"What do you mean?"

She stepped closer to him, irritated by him trying to play dumb. "I'm asking you why not. You haven't even talked to me for the past two weeks. I want a reason for why you're avoiding me."

He looked up at her, getting aggravated. "I told you I'm not avoiding you already. I just have a lot of work."

"That doesn't mean you can't say hi to me every once in a while," she said crossly. "Or that you can't take one day off to have _fun._" She was starting to get really angry with him. He just didn't seem to care that he was hurting her feelings by saying nothing to her all this time.

He didn't answer her. He just started to walk away, his shoulders stiff. "Hey!" she called as she jogged to catch up with his long strides. "You do know what fun is don't you? Or are you just a self centered workaholic?" She ran faster when he didn't turn around.

When he just kept walking, she grabbed his forearm and pulled him around to look at her roughly. His face was hard and impassive and it looked as if he was trying to hold himself back from losing it on her. There was just a small amount of surprise in his expression; he didn't know that she was strong enough to push him around like she did. "Why? Why don't you even want to be friends?" her voice rose so that she was yelling at him.

He jerked his arm away from her quickly, his face turning into a mask of hatred as he lowered his voice to a growl. "I don't work for you, so I don't need to answer to you. Now get the fuck away from me."

Clary felt like she had just been stunned. Dropping her arm, her shoulders fell and her anger dissipated as quickly as it had come. He stalked away from her and to the guest house, where the door slammed shut behind him and echoed in the silence that followed. She just stood in the middle of the yard, unable to believe that she had just really screwed things up more than they were. He surely would never want to talk to her after this. A large lump grew in her throat as the rims of her eyes started stinging. She clenched her jaw and she tried not to cry, but the tears came despite her efforts. She hastily turned away from the guest house, not wanting him to see her fall apart.

She slowly made her way back to the house, feeling numb all over. _What did I just do?_

* * *

_So sorry that it took so long you guys. I really wanted to try and get this chapter perfect. Please read and review if you're not too angry with me._


	9. Chapter 9

_Wow! I got fifteen reviews in less than twenty-four hours? Ahmazing! Thank you to everyone! Also, I have realized that it takes me a little over a week to write a chappie so, obviously, my promise of updating every Friday is shattered. Sorry guys :/ But! I will absolutely commit myself to updating every week and a half. How's that sound?_

_P.S. Since my chapters are starting to get really long and people are bringing my attention to many mistakes that I have made, I am in desperate need of a Beta. PM me if you're interested in helping :)_

_C.A.S.S.A.N.D.R.A. C.L.A.R.E._

* * *

She moved toward the house without sensation, without thought. Her mind was blank as it tried to process what had just happened. Even though the day was scorching, her skin still felt as cold as ice. She didn't know what to be thinking at the moment so she decided on nothing. It hurt less. And all she had wanted was to know why he was acting the way he was acting. She had asked and what she got in return was face full of realization.

He hated her.

For whatever reason, Clary didn't know. But whatever it was had been enough to make him hate her so much that he didn't even want to look at her or have her be near him. She wished that she could figure out what she had done wrong but she had no idea what it was. Sure she might have been harsh when she confronted him, but she didn't think she had deserved such hostility. She only wanted to know why he wasn't answering her directly when she asked him about it. Clary knew that she should have expected him to snap eventually but she didn't know that he was that easy to get angry. Sure, his mood swings were dramatic, but she had thought he had had them under control. That didn't seem like the case any longer.

Walking through the house, she ended up sitting at the bottom of her unmade bed, trying to think as her mind cleared from the initial shock of his words. As she thought she realized that, no matter how mad he was at her, it was unjustified. _She _deserved to be the angry one, not him. _She _was the one that had been given the cold shoulder for the past two weeks. _She_ was the one that had been worried about him and only wanted to know what was going on. He, evidently, didn't care about what happened to her at all. It's not like _he worked for her _anyways. She clenched her fists and set her jaw agitatedly; she was getting even more frustrated as she thought about it.

He was no longer worth her interests either if he really meant what he said. She had thought that he was at least her friend but based on his attitude towards her, he had really thought that she was just being annoying and he thought that avoiding her would fix the problem. _Well, guess what? _she thought._ It did, you moron. _She wasn't going to pay attention to him anymore, he could do whatever he wanted and she would just focus on her riding, her friends, and nothing else. Wasting her energy caring for someone who quite obviously didn't want her to was exhausting and, quite frankly, not worth the anxiety or the time it cost her.

Now, she couldn't wait to go to the party this Saturday. He at least wouldn't be there and she would probably be able to invite Simon so that she could have some real fun. Deciding to call Isabelle and tell her what happened, she wiped the remnants of moisture from her red cheeks and reached over to her nightstand, past the pain killers and her alarm clock, for her small silver cell phone. As she sniffled and pressed the device to her ear she waited for her to answer, not seeing that Jace was fuming in the guest house next door.

""""""""

"UGHHH!" he growled as he fisted his hands into his golden hair and pulled at the roots, trying to figure out why he was such an idiot. He hadn't meant to snap at her like he did, but he didn't like to be confronted about things. He preferred to figure things out himself before he was going to be pressured to give an answer. Hating the fact that he had most likely made things a whole lot worse with his anger, he paced the living room as he still yanked viciously at his hair.

He knew that she was only bothered by the way that he was acting and that she was wondering why he was being so standoffish to her for the past few weeks. And the truth was that he didn't really know. It could be from the fact that he was still getting used to the fact of living there, but it didn't seem likely; he had slept like a baby during that first week. Assimilating to new places was easy for him since he had moved so many times during his lifetime. He had been from the east coast to the west coast and nearly everywhere in between. Thinking about it in more detail, he knew for a fact that that wasn't the reason why he was being such a dick to her.

Having no real inclination as to why he was acting the way that he was made him angrier. All he wanted was to know what he was thinking, and thinking about what he was thinking wasn't helping him to think of anything. He bowed his head as he got more upset, the dull pulsing pain just above his eyes had increased to a piercing throb with his confusion and frustration with himself.

He didn't want to act this way to her. He wanted to show her and tell her what he was feeling but, first of all, he didn't know what he was feeling and he certainly couldn't show her if he didn't know that. He desperately wanted to apologize to her for the way that he acted because of his misunderstanding with his own emotions but, by the way that she had looked when he yelled at her, he knew that she most likely hated him now. Whatever chance that he had of fixing what he had done was shattered when that first tear had fallen from her emerald eyes. He had felt like punching himself when he watched her move numbly back to her house and shut the door behind herself softly. Never having felt this kind of confusion before about one person made him very unsettled; he liked to be able to control the situation and when he couldn't, it only brought back memories from his twisted childhood.

Instantly, a coppery taste filled his mouth and he had to work to not gag in disgust. Thinking about these things made him want to forget about them altogether and pretend that his past had never actually happened. He wanted to forget this past life that he had lived, if you could call it living. But he knew never to get his hopes up, never to expect things to change for the better because it always was pulled from underneath you just as you were getting used to it. He would be damned if that happened to him while he was living at Morningstar.

""""""""

"Hey!" Clary turned from cinching Caspian's girth hurriedly and saw Simon loping towards her. Somehow he had gotten taller and more muscled in the past week and it left him looking even less like the small ten year old that she had once known. "You gonna work him?" he smiled at her warmly, his eyes crinkling beneath his thick dark-rimmed glasses, and Clary couldn't help but smile back. Just seeing him made her in a better mood than she had been in before. His presence brought a sense of calmness and security to her; she had known him for so long now that she no longer had any doubts about him. She knew that she could trust him and that trust led her to be able to feel comfortable around him. That feeling had never been there when it came to Jace.

Trying to blink away the sudden stinging in her eyes, she answered him with a silent nod. After talking to Isabelle about Jace yesterday, she had felt only remotely better about the situation. She hadn't really wanted Isabelle to start trashing him and calling him nearly every swear in the book, but she had. Although she had made her feel like he wasn't worth her attention and that he didn't deserve her, Clary still felt like it was partly her fault that things between them were worse than what they had been before. Isabelle had insisted vehemently that that was not the case; she believed that it was Jace's fault for being a "prissy and confusing sunuvabitch that can't figure out his own emotions".

"Hey." Simon's voice cut into her thoughts gently as he stepped forward to her side, leaning against Caspian. "What's wrong?" Clary just shook her head and continued to pull the girth up tighter and tighter, wanting to forget about the whole thing. She needed to focus today since her ride yesterday had made Michael so disappointed in her. She didn't want to see that look on his face ever again; she hated feeling guilty. She fiddled with the length of the stirrups as she thought.

She felt more than saw Simon's hand come up to pry her hands away from the leather of the equipment. "Stop." He held her hands in his as she looked up at him with her brows knitted together, forming an unflattering worry line on her forehead. He looked straight at her as he asked, "Now tell me what has you so messed up."

Clary sighed. "It's nothing. It's just…" she debated whether or not to tell him what happened. She didn't want Simon to hate Jace more than he already did, and she definitely didn't want him to say anything to Jace about what he had said to her. But she also couldn't deny those familiar and trusting chocolate eyes that looked at her with such concern. She didn't want to lie to him. "It's something that Jace said. It… I dunno… got to me, I guess." _Understatement much?_

She watched as his eyes hardened and switched from concern to anger. "What did that douche say to you?" His light touch on her hands increased to a firm hold.

"Simon, don't get-"

"No." he cut her off mid-sentence. "I want to know."

Clary studied him for a moment, wanting to figure out if it was better not to tell him. She didn't want a fight between them after all. "Calm down. You have no reason to be mad about this. It doesn't concern you."

He narrowed his eyes slightly but loosened his grip on her small hands. "Of course it concerns me! You're my-" he fumbled quickly. "My friend. I want to know why he's bugging you."

Unable to make a decent rebuttal to his point, she sighed before telling him, "Look, he had been acting weird so I asked him about why he had been avoiding me. He decided to pretend like there was nothing wrong so I got pissed off at him and I yelled at him, and he… he just said that he didn't need to answer me because he doesn't, well you know, like work for _me_." She paused, feeling the tears starting to well up again, and she saw the muscle in his jaw jump while he tried squelching his frustration. "He told me to 'get the hell away from him'." She decided to change his wording in fear that it would make Simon even angrier than he was already.

Simon made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh as he disentangled his hands from hers and scrubbed his hand over his freshly cut hair. "And you just took that? You didn't say anything to him?" The calmness in his voice sounded forced and out of place with his tone which was low and furious.

"What should I have said? He obviously hates me," she said as she looked down at her boots. There was a small scuff on the top of the shining black leather.

"Shit, you could have told him off or at least punched him or something." Clary raised an eyebrow. Simon knew that she had never been a violent person. "You don't deserve to be talked to like that Clary, no one does. Especially not you."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she turned back to Caspian and checked the stirrups one last time. She knew that Simon was angry now and she really hadn't wanted that. Knowing that he was particularly easy to provoke into a fight, she sincerely hoped that he wouldn't go looking for Jace; Jace would surely say something stupid and get punched, and it would all be on her when someone got hurt. "Look, just forget about it. It's not like he matters to me." She knew the last part was still a lie, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise. A large part of her still wanted him to come to her and tell her he was sorry, just like in the movies. But she knew her life was no fairy tale.

Without even looking at him she knew that he knew she was lying to him. He took a step back from her. "You should stay away from him. He's not good for you."

At his words, a small chill ran over and through her body. She didn't want that to be true but in some ways she knew that it was. He quite obviously had a hard time controlling his anger; his stay in jail could speak for that. And he always seemed to be hiding something that could be imperative to her getting to know him better. He was closed off before because of this and, now that she had tried to figure him out, he was disgusted by her. But on the other hand, she was intrigued by him. She wanted to know the story behind the good looking, troubled guy that came to live with her. She wanted to know everything about him but she just wasn't sure if it was the best idea.

"I don't want to talk about him anymore," she said, huffing as she affixed the bridle to Cas's head quickly. She was already late for Michael and she was sure that he wouldn't be happy with her. She closed the latch around Caspian's throat and grabbed the reins, starting to lead the horse out of the barn. Simon came along with them as they strode to the track.

"Just… be careful around him alright?" he sounded calmer but also very, very warning. She knew that he simply didn't want her to be hurt by him more but she didn't like how he was telling her how to live her life. It's not like he was her father or something.

Clary blew out a sigh noisily. "You don't need to worry. I won't even be near him," she said moodily. _No matter how much I want to be near him…_ She looked over at him and saw that his jaw was clenched tightly. He didn't look so much angry as he looked… was it jealous? It couldn't be. Did her face betray her that much that he could actually see what she was thinking right in her eyes? And here she had thought she was at least remotely good at lying…

He didn't answer her. He just looked out across the yard with that same look on his face that was somewhere between angry, frustrated, and resentful. Again that same guilty feeling flopped into her stomach making her feel horrible, heavy, and ultimately, like shit.

""""""""

Isabelle's delicate and skilled hands sifted through her hair roughly and it was doing nothing to help the gigantic headache that she had. Having slept only about two hours last night because of another intense nightmare, she was not happy to be having her hair tugged on. Plus, the painkillers she had been taking seemed to be having no effect on the spiking pain in her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to tough it out.

"I don't get him." Yank. "He looks at you like you're the next Virgin Mary, but then he acts like that to you? No way. No. Fuckin'. Way." Another hard pull followed by the scratch of an extremely bristly brush. She had been going on and on about Jace and how he was such an ass for nearly the entire two hours that she had been in Clary's room fiddling with her unruly hair. The party was tonight and Clary still hadn't gotten him off of her mind. She wondered what he would do when he was home all alone tonight while the rest of the family was at the Lightwood's gala. Isabelle continued to yank at her curls.

"Uh, Izzy?" Yank, pull, scratch. Clary's eyes were starting to water from so much tugging on her hair.

She continued as if she hadn't heard Clary speak a word. "But what the hell is his problem? I guess he just doesn't realize what a great person you are…" Scratch, yank, pull.

"ISABELLE."

Her hands ceased their torturous work and rested on Clary's head lightly. "What?"

"Ow."

"Oh! Sorry! Sorry, sorry. I wasn't paying attention." As she started to work on her hair again, this time much more carefully, Clary thought of all the people that would be at the party. She knew that Amatis, Luke, Michael, and Simon were going, as was Isabelle, and apparently the Sebastian Verlac guy was going to be there also. She was in no hurry to see him again but she figured that she would just have to be civil to him since they would be in the company of so many important people that could really help her get farther into the industry.

She knew that the party wouldn't be all that fun, but Isabelle was promising her a good time and she always had to believe Isabelle. She never came up short in her promises. Isabelle had said that she would help her to find a guy that wouldn't treat her the same way as Jace had, but Clary didn't want anyone else. Knowing that it was a stupid idea to hold onto someone who obviously doesn't like you, she had agreed to consider some of her choices after some extreme whining on Isabelle's part. Although, Isabelle's taste in guys was much different from her own.

She saw Isabelle reach for the curling iron and wield it like a weapon as she readied herself to tackle the immense foe that was Clary's frizzy hair. Clary laughed hoping that her hair would eventually cooperate. Isabelle had finished her own in about half the time. It draped loosely over her shoulders in beautiful waves that almost went down to the center of her back. She was even already dressed in her elegant silver gown that slid across her skin and flaunted her curves almost ostentatiously; the back of the dress was cut low on her back, revealing much too much skin in Clary's opinion. She would never be able to pull that dress off like Isabelle did. Clary was sure that Isabelle would get plenty of attention from all of the boys at the party.

"So, when do I actually get to see myself?" Isabelle had forced her away from the mirror above her dresser, spinning the chair around so that Clary had no inclination as to what she would look like. She had said that it would make the final reveal even better. Clary wasn't to hot on the idea.

Isabelle huffed. "When your hair and makeup is done and you're wearing your dress, that's when. No sooner." She twisted another strand of hair around the barrel of the curler with a concentrated expression. Her bottom lip was stuck in between her teeth and her brows were wrinkled with thought. _She sure does take this seriously, _Clary thought with a mental sigh.

After about another half hour on her hair, Isabelle pronounced it as done and moved onto her face. Clary insisted that she keep the makeup to a minimum; she hated the idea of having foundation caked on like someone had just thrown a flesh-colored pie into her face. Surprising to Clary, Isabelle had actually agreed saying, "You don't need that much makeup. Just a little around the eyes and you're done." Isabelle drew on her lash-line with something wet and cold.

"Ew, what's that?" Clary asked, wanting to rub it off of her eyes. She was very new to the whole makeup scene and she had been asking questions constantly throughout the entire experience. Isabelle's knowledge of everything was astounding to her; Clary had never paid that much attention to this kind of thing.

Isabelle laughed softly. "Really, Clary. It's liquid eyeliner. Now quit squirming around and let me finish." Clary did as she said and refrained from smudging it of off of her eyes in discomfort. After Isabelle made a last flick with the tip of the eyeliner brush she grabbed the scary looking metal clamp that rested on the dresser and Clary flinched back a bit.

"OK! What is that?" It looked like a miniature metal death trap.

"Eyelash curler," she said simply, snapping the metal clamps open and shut quickly as she spoke.

"And that's going to help… how?"

Isabelle made a face. "Are you going to trust the makeup guru or not?" She hesitated, waiting for Clary to protest but she gave in easily. Gently, she brought the curler to her lashes and squeezed a few times before taking it away and reaching for what looked to be a tube of mascara. She unscrewed the top of it, pulling out the wand, and she pumped the brush into the holder a few times as she tried to get rid of the excess black liquid before applying it to Clary's eyelashes.

When she seemed to be finished, Isabelle stepped back and reviewed her handiwork. Smiling, she turned and started to put away to array of different cosmetic items that were strewn out over the dresser top. "Now, you need to put on your dress. Were leaving in…" she twisted her head around sharply to look at the purple alarm clock on Clary's nightstand. "Fifteen minutes." _Fifteen minutes! Jeez, we spent a long time on my hair…_

She hurried out of the chair and over to her closet where she had hung the dress on one of the hangers. She zipped it out of the protective garment bag and let the hem of it cascade onto the floor. It really was a pretty dress and Clary hoped that she could do it justice. She didn't want to seem like she was trying to hard to fit in with this expensive and lavish crowd that was sure to show up at the gala. Knowing Maryse, she wouldn't have forgotten to invite the most elite fashion designers that she knew.

Stripping down to her underwear quickly, she threw aside her pants hastily. "And for God's sake, tell me you shaved your legs!" Isabelle blurted as she whipped around to look at her. She had told Clary to do so last night so that there wouldn't be any problems today with the time constraints that she had. Clary, not being a fan of shaving, often let it slide but thankfully, she had taken her advice this time. She was afraid of what Isabelle would do or say to her if she hadn't.

Isabelle gave a dramatic sigh of relief and her hand flew to her chest when she looked at Clary's bare legs. "Thank the Lord."

Instantly Clary felt self-conscious. "Hey, they weren't _that_ bad before!" To that, Isabelle gave her a silent incredulous look before she dropped the matter entirely. Quickly forgetting the jibe, she returned to her dress and started pulling it up and over the strapless bra that Isabelle had insisted that she buy. She tried zipping up the back of it herself, only to succeed in pulling it up about halfway. Isabelle, seeing her predicament, walked over and helped her to finish the job. When the quick zipping noise signaled that the dress was on, she told her to close her eyes as she walked her over to the mirror. She could feel the tightening of Isabelle's hands on her shoulders as her excitement grew. Clary, knowing that Isabelle loved to give makeovers, went along with her silliness and allowed her to lead her.

"Open."

Who stood in front of her was not someone that she knew. This girl had beautifully wavy hair that was piled on top of her head elegantly and fixed with a gold hair pin. Small tendrils of her soft auburn hair framed the girls face. Looking past the hair, she saw the girl's mysterious emerald eyes shining brightly against the feature-enhancing makeup. Her lips were covered with a sheer gloss and they were shaped into a surprised 'O' as Clary watched. She could barely believe that this girl was herself but seeing the freckles that peppered her cheeks and nose lightly, she knew it was herself. Somehow, Isabelle had made her look like a princess tonight although she wasn't sure how. Looking at herself more, she could see the light golden glow that Isabelle had given her. Smiling, she turned to her stylist and gave her a tight hug.

"Thank you, Izzy." Isabelle laughed lightly as she shrugged around her.

"It was no big deal," she stepped back from the hug and looked at the alarm clock once more. "Shit!" We should have left ten minutes ago!" She rushed to grab her pair of sky high heels and her silver clutch. "Let's go," she said as she nearly ran for Clary's bedroom door. Clary grabbed her shoes and quickly followed after her down the hall to where Isabelle's Porsche sat outside.

The crisp night air smoothed across Clary's exposed skin and nipped at her cheeks. It wasn't unpleasant; it actually cleared her head a bit and did what the painkillers hadn't. She breathed in a deep gulp of the air wanting to keep this blank feeling for the rest of the night. She didn't want to have Jace fuddling around in her head the whole time. She wanted to have fun and forget about him, if only for the night. Tiptoeing over to the passenger side, she lifted the handle and crouched in; the convertible top was up in order to spare the girls' hair.

Isabelle did the same and clicked on her seat belt, shoving the keys into the ignition. The sports car hummed to life almost soundlessly to which Clary and her pounding head appreciated very much. "Goddamn it! We still need to pick up Simon," Isabelle said, frustrated as she sped down the drive. Clary sincerely hoped he was ready. If he wasn't, Isabelle would most likely drag him out of the house naked; she _hated _being late. On the other hand, Amatis, Luke, and Michael had left about two hours ago for the cocktail party that was strictly for adults only, and were missing this particular freak out that Isabelle was having.

The car spun around sharp turns at a high speed, but it didn't seem to affect Isabelle. She had been driving these roads for so long that she knew them like the back of her hand, but that still didn't make Clary feel any less nauseous. After a few minutes of racing around winding turns, Isabelle skidded the car to a halt in front of Simon's modest raised ranch and laid into the horn. "Izzy!" Clary reached over and snatched her hands off the steering wheel. "You're going to give him a heart attack." She made a _so what?_ face and Clary looked at her with disapproval. "He won't come out any faster if he's collapsed from heart failure," she said.

But just as she spoke, she glimpsed Simon jogging over. The girls both turned to watch him run up to the car quickly. He wore a crisp white tuxedo shirt covered by his black tux jacket and pants. He would have looked completely unlike himself if he didn't have his Pepe' Le Pew bow tie on. It looked quite silly with the many small skunks on it, but Simon could pull it off just because he was that kind of guy. He never liked to conform to the usual. At least it made Clary laugh. Isabelle however was shocked.

Simon climbed into the back seat and said a quick hello as he fastened his own seat belt; he knew from experience how fast Isabelle could get on the road. "What on _earth_ are you wearing Simon?" Isabelle huffed.

He brought his hands to his chest and looked down, searching for a problem with his clothing. Finding nothing he looked up and shrugged. "Uh, what's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Clary giggled into her hand, trying to not laugh out loud.

Isabelle sighed. "Whatever. You obviously have no concept of fashion." Simon raised his eyebrows at this but didn't push it; Isabelle was already accelerating down the road towards her own home, his silly bow tie completely forgotten.

It took them ten minutes to take the forty- five minute long trip to her home. Isabelle raced up her long cobblestoned drive, only stopping when the line of traffic appeared just as the enormous mansion came into view. As they waited for the many people to have their car parked by the valets, Clary looked up at the massive building in front of them. The house had been in Isabelle's family since around 1864 but the age of the home could only be seen in the architecture. It was perfectly preserved over the years, not even one crack or chip in the immense marble pillars of the vestibule in front. The sand colored blacks of stone that made up the structure, Clary was sure, cost more than ten times Isabelle's Porsche.

As they drove slowly behind the expensive looking black BMW in front of them, Clary could see the plush grass on either side of their car. It had quite obviously been cut by a professional landscaper as well as the many shrubs and rose bushes had in one of the many gardens that scattered the property. As the night approached, the moon shone down on top of the circular conservatory that was above them on the third floor, and cast the yard into an ominous blue tone, washing out nearly everything except for the soft yellow lights that came from the inside of the home. The coned roof seemed to glitter as the moon's light bounced off of the heavy glass, making it look like a sheet of silver. To say the least, the Lightwood's home was beautiful, timeless and had enough history to be its own museum.

Eventually, it was their turn to exit the car and Isabelle left it in neutral as she moved to step out of the driver's seat. Her hand was quickly met with a very handsome-looking and formally dressed guy who started to escort her into the building. She looked towards Clary quickly as they passed the front of the Porsche and smiled with a waggle of her brows. Clary laughed before she started to get out, only to be startled slightly by Simon's hand that was extended to her. She smiled as she took his hand and let him lead her in right after Isabelle and her escort while the valet parked their car for them.

Simon's hand tightened around her arm as they went up the steps to the vestibule and finally set foot into the home through the vast teak wood doors that were held open by yet another pair of men in basic tuxedos. Even in the rather small entryway, there were plenty of things to look at; the marble statues of Greek gods and goddesses clutching to their drapes of white clothing, the old Victorian era tea sets set on silver saucers and vases with stunning floral designs painted on by hand on the antique side table made of a dark and elaborate wood. The walls around them were a fresh buttery yellow atop a white intricately paneled bottom half. It was all illuminated by the tall fabric lamp in the corner.

They moved quickly through and emerged into the entrance hall to which Clary gave a small gasp in awe. Its tall ceilings held a mural of angels from above dancing within the clouds that were painted with an expert hand. Protruding from the ceiling was the inevitable chandelier with thousands and thousands of small slivers of crystal that bounced light in all directions. The walls in this room were a serene blue with the same paneling as in the vestibule. Here, the many guests had broken up into small groups and were talking lowly so as not to carry their voices in the cosmic room. All of the women were dressed elegantly and the men all stood tall and proud beside them. Clary, still holding on to Simon, looked past the room and into the rotunda where soft piano music was playing for the guests to dance to. Most were dancing and a few were sitting among the plush Victorian seating.

It all looked like she had somehow stepped into a Cinderella story, the high ceilings, and formally dressed guests, waltzing in the room adjacent to her with music flowing freely and carrying throughout the huge mansion. She even looked like a Cinderella, and felt like one too; her dress billowed out slightly as she walked in and spun as she turned in every direction, trying to get a better look at everything that was so foreign to her. She had been to this home before but she hadn't remembered it all with the same clarity or the same beauty. _Maryse has definitely outdone herself this time, _she thought, still watching everything around her with a look of wonder. _If only Jace had bothered to come…_

She soon caught Isabelle's form that was slyly conversing with the boy that had escorted her. His brown hair was long enough to have a slight flip near his hairline and his eyes were a slate gray; his soothing gaze fixed on her as he spoke quietly enough to Isabelle that Clary could not hear. Isabelle turned, having understood what the boy said, and motioned for Clary and Simon to join them. Clary looked up at him with a questioning look, and he looked back at her before he shrugged lightly with a happy glint in his chocolate eyes.

He gave her a little nudge in their direction and the two of them moved over the marble floors and through the small groups of guests, Clary's heels making a small clacking noise that only she and Simon could hear. Isabelle stood near the corner of the room next to a tall vase filled with white lilies and various other flowers that Clary could not name. They approached the couple and Isabelle turned to them, gesturing to the boy.

"I want you to meet Matthew Dubois." _Dubois. Where have I heard that before? _Clary wondered, unable to find a face for the name. "Matthew, this is Simon Lewis," she gestured to Simon quickly, and moved on to Clary. "And, _this_ is Clary Fray." Isabelle emphasized the 'this' as if she were some kind of fancy treasure that was something wondrous to behold. Clary was sure she blushed scarlet as Matthew gazed at her intently, a small smile at his full lips, before he extended his hand almost unknowingly to Simon.

He averted his gaze from Clary before he spoke. "It's great to meet you," He broke off the handshake to extend his hand to Clary's which he picked up gently in his large hand. "And wonderful to meet you also, Miss Fray." She blushed again.

As she looked away quickly from his intensity, she noticed a funny look on Simon's face. It was that same look he had had with her yesterday; it was jealous and somewhat envious. Clary didn't like it one bit, but before she could ask him anything about what was wrong, Isabelle started to speak. "We should all go and dance, no?"

Matthew looked delighted but Clary was cautious. She couldn't dance at all. "I don't know about that…" she said with trepidation.

Matthew squeezed her hand softly to get her attention before he answered her in an assured voice. "Don't worry, I can lead." He proceeded to take her by her hand through the large entry hall and into the circular rotunda. Clary, looking behind her, saw that Isabelle had snaked her arm through Simon's who, instead of looking jealous, now had a blank and uncaring look on his face. She furrowed her brows confusedly.

As he led her into the center of the room, the pianist started to play a new tune; this one slower than the previous had been. Matthew put his arm around her waist lightly and extended his hand, waiting for her to bring her own up to meet his. She pressed her hand into his and looked at him, waiting for something, but she wasn't even sure what she was waiting for. His small laugh broke the tension between them, making Clary much more comfortable around him. He somehow conveyed a message of relaxation to her that she hadn't had while she was around Jace. Jace was more unpredictable and harder to read than Matthew was. She set her other hand confidently on his shoulder, feeling the muscles there; strong and sure.

He started to lead her in a simple waltz and as they danced, he talked freely about things like the party; even asking Clary many questions about herself and things that she had done, but staying away from any heavier subjects. As he talked about himself a few times, Clary realized that he was bland. He was almost too boring to pay attention to as he droned on and on about himself and his family. Her gaze wandered around the room during his rant, resting on her aunt and uncle who were talking amongst a group of people she didn't know, and Sebastian who was moving slowly from group to group, working the room.

He started into another story, but only one thing he said really caught her attention. "My father owns Meadowlark Farms in Kentucky actually. It is quite beautiful down there this time of year. I spent a summer there with him and my Aunt Eloise this one year…" He rushed on into another lackluster tale as Clary's mind drifted.

No wonder why Dubois had sounded so familiar to her. His father Andrew was one of the wealthiest and most successful horse breeders and owners in the country. If she could somehow just arrange some kind of meeting with him, it would be the ultimate in experience and be just what she would need to get her name out there as fast as possible. She didn't want to interrupt his rant to ask him if she could meet his father, so the soft closing of the music flowing from the piano was the great way to sneak in a word.

"Your father? Is he here tonight? I would love to hear more about his horse farm in Kentucky," she said sweetly, trying to bat her eyelashes. She felt ridiculous doing it but it got a positive response from Matthew.

His face brightened. "Of course! He is over near the Lightwood's and that strange looking man."

At the mentioning of the Lightwood's Clary inwardly groaned. She looked towards where he had pointed and sure enough there they were with Magnus Bane, the strange looking man, near the tall windows overlooking the yard. She didn't particularly want the Lightwood's to encroach on her conversation with Andrew Dubois, but she was ready to bite the bullet and just go and try to talk with him. She let Matthew lead her in their direction.

As the couple approached, Magnus looked up from his crystal glass of champagne to say a cheery hello. "Clarissa Fray! What a pleasant surprise!" Clary instantly blushed as people around them turned to look in her direction. She smiled at him and gave him a small wave as Matthew steered her over to them.

"How are you Miss Fray?" Magnus asked, focusing his odd greenish-yellow eyes on her.

Clary nodded slowly. "I'm doing well, Magnus. How are you?" She asked as politely as she could be. At the sound of her voice, Robert Lightwood turned to look at her before he got Maryse's attention with a tap of her shoulder, and jerked his head in her direction. Alec soon caught on, and ripped his thoughtful gaze from Magnus and placed it onto Clary where it swiftly changed to the usual look of contempt that he always reserved for her. Andrew Dubois looked on with the rest of the group with a faint hint of interest in his features.

Magnus, seemingly oblivious to the attention that their conversation was getting, continued just as jollily. "Oh, I'm doing fine, but I would expect you be better than just _well." _At her confusion, he elaborated. "You just received your jockey's license did you not? I also happen to hear that you have been signed on by Mr. Penhallow. He is quite… _invested_into the industry." She didn't like the way that he had put that last statement. The idea of Mr. Penhallow being invested was something that she had thought of herself, only she hadn't wanted to believe that he was a heavy gambler. His mysterious phone call was her first warning that he was over his head in debt with someone.

She quickly composed herself and gave him another polite reply as the Lightwood's and Mr. Dubois listened in. "Yes, I did. My first race is next month for Morningstar, though." She glanced around the entire group quickly, cautiously.

"Ah! Well, I wish you good luck!" He raised his glass and took a long sip of the bubbly liquid, the piercing in his lower lip making a small _ping!_ as it brushed against the glass of the flute. Clary smiled. She liked the way that he could lighten the mood in any situation.

"Clarissa. It is good to see you here." Maryse's sharp and hawk-like stare focused on her and cut into her pleasant conversation with Magnus. Clary had to stop herself from flinching back at her gaze. She hated how this woman could bring about fear in her. She set her jaw and made herself relax her shoulders before she replied in an almost icy tone.

"It's good to be here."

She saw the flash in Maryse's eyes before she gave her a curt nod and turned her attention to Robert, where she whispered close to his ear, and the pair glided away and onto other groups, trying to greet all of their guests, no doubt. Clary moved her icy look to Alec who was staring at Magnus with an almost shy expression. He stepped closer and began a conversation with the eccentric-looking Asian. Was it her imagination or did Magnus's eyes rake over Alec's figure before he spoke? Feeling slightly awkward with the situation she swiveled towards Mr. Dubois, wanting to bring up the idea of having him work with her one day. But before she could even grasp his attention, Simon's voice appeared in her ear, quiet and low.

"Clary? Can I talk to you?" She turned quickly and caught the look in his eyes; it was urgent and he looked somewhat distressed. Instantly, she knew that he needed to talk to her about something important. Forgetting the conversation that she had wanted to have with Mr. Dubois, she said a quick goodbye to Matthew and excused herself to go talk with Simon. "Let's go outside," Simon said quickly as he took her arm and brought her through the rotunda, to the opposite side of the room where he led her down another marble staircase and out into one of the gardens that she had seen when they arrived.

He walked slowly and thoughtfully as they wound through the maze of shrubs, fountains, and magnolias, their fragrance lifting into the air like an expensive perfume. The only way that the pair of them could see was because of the soft glow of light that came from the small and intimate gazebo that stood at the head of the garden. The twinkle lights that surrounded the pillars lit their way as Simon kept walking silently, all of his urgency suddenly gone. Clary had no idea what had been so important but apparently it hadn't been that urgent considering he was just strolling along not saying anything. But looking at him closer, she saw that he was thinking something over in his head. Whenever he was thinking about something hard, he always got two little lines between his brows and his mouth was usually pursed. He had that same look at the moment.

They both walked up the three short steps to get up and onto the gazebo's platform, Clary having to pick of the hem of her dress slightly to avoid tripping on the expensive emerald fabric. As she looked up at the top and sides of the gazebo, she saw vines that wound around the entire structure and they were covered with white budding flowers. Looking beyond the yard, she could just make out the shimmering surface of Lake Berryessa where the moon was reflected in its calm waters. The scene was beautiful and certainly something that Clary would have loved to draw or even capture on a canvas.

Simon looked out over the view with her before he spoke quietly. "You look beautiful tonight, Clary." She looked sideways at him and gave him a small smile.

"Thanks." She looked down at herself again and swished the fabric encasing her legs. She knew that he must have wanted to talk about something else other than the way that she looked tonight. "What did you want to talk about?"

He turned from the scene in front of him to look at her, swallowing hard before launching himself hurriedly into conversation. "Certain… people are here tonight and I just wanted to tell you that I-" he broke off suddenly stopping himself from continuing in the same rush that he had been. "I just don't want you to make a wrong decision."

Clary looked at him with a mixture of confusion and consideration. He looked so sad for some reason, which she did not know, but the way that he was talking was very cryptic and she just didn't understand why he had switched from being happy to so… unhappy. "What's wrong, Simon?" she asked him fretfully. She didn't like the way that he seemed to need to warn her about something. His lips started to form his next sentence, but he snapped his mouth shut and his face turned into stone as a familiar voice cut wistfully but loudly through the silence of the night air.

"Just a fine-looking night tonight. Isn't it, Simon?"

* * *

_Ahhh! No! Don't kill me! Haha :) But seriously, if you did, you would never know what happens next. Review pretty please!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Yeah... I'm a jerk. I guess I kinda sorta went on hiatus for a little while, but I am back and ready to get writing again :) I seriously missed it. Anyways, I'm updating this really late tonight so it'll be a breakfast read for some of you!_

_Cassandra C. owns all the characters not me._

* * *

Clary, standing close to Simon against the railing of the gazebo, twists her head around in surprise. The voice had seemed to come out of nowhere; she hadn't heard footsteps to come with it. As her green eyes adjusted to the darkness outside of the softly lit gazebo, she could just make out the outline of a boy. As she squinted her eyes, she could also see that he had his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders were at ease, giving him a very relaxed posture. The figure moved towards them and as the light bended and reflected off of the sharp features of his recognizable face, she knew immediately who it was.

_Jace._

A melee of emotions barraged her; shock, puzzlement, relief, happiness, anger and frustration. Shock that he had actually come, puzzlement over how he had actually gotten to the party, relief that he had decided to be there, happiness that he was there with her, anger that he had come when he had been such an ass to her a few days prior, and finally frustration that he had interrupted Simon just before he was about to tell her something. As he ascended the few steps and stepped inside the gazebo, she was sure that all of these emotions were written plainly on her face. She did nothing to hide them in her surprise. Turning to Simon, who still stood motionless in front of her, she gave him a _'What the fuck?' _look and received a blank look in return._ Did he already know he was here? _She thought, confused.

She snapped her gaze to Jace where she looked him over quickly, noting that he was in all black; not wearing a white button down, but a black one covered by a lustrous black vest and tie to be underneath his tuxedo. Clary tried not to notice the way that formal wear suited his body so well, his broad shoulders and strong upper body flaunted themselves even when covered by clothing. Her chest started to flutter as the thought just wouldn't leave her brain. She let her eyes scour his figure quickly before she chastised herself internally and skittered her eyes to his. Seeing his knowing cocky glance, she narrowed her eyes and set her thin shoulders indignantly.

She heard him chuckle. "You like it?" he said, running his hands over his jacket. "I don't particularly enjoy it, but if you do…" he trailed off, still laughing quietly under his breath. Clary locked her jaw in frustration.

"What I would like, is for you to leave. _Now."_Her gritted teeth grated against one another like the way that his attitude was grating on her nerves. How could he just stand there and act this way to her when he had just been yelling at her to get away from him two days ago? She didn't understand how he could be acting so casual about the entire thing. It was as if he was completely disregarding his aversive attitude towards her for the past few weeks and he was now replacing it with the 'I don't care at all' attitude. If he wasn't going to acknowledge what had happened, she sure wasn't either.

His face turned down in mock disappointment. "Oh, so you can have your little _chat _with Simon?" His features switched to an exaggerated expression of surprise. "Was I interrupting it?" he asked innocently, his ochre eyes flashing to Simon. "Sorry, I hadn't noticed," his voice, saturated with sarcasm, certainly did not sound sorry in the least as he directed the comment at him.

Simon returned his gaze icily, but said nothing in return. He seemed to be trying to hold in his anger, his fists were balled up at his sides and the muscles in his neck and jaw were rigid with restraint. Clary did not need to have a fight on her hands, especially at a party like this. She turned fully to Jace, wanting to tell him to fuck off, but as she opened her mouth she was only cut off by his snide voice once again. "Don't think I don't know what you were going to tell her, Lewis," he said with another demeaning laugh. "As soon as you saw me in the dining room you _whisked_," he made a fluttery motion with his fingers and hands, "her away to tell her to stay away from me, and to tell her how you _really _feel about her." His face had turned almost vicious as he went on, his mouth forming into an unbecoming sneer. "To tell you the truth, I don't think she returns those feelings buddy-boy."

Simon, having heard enough, started towards him quickly with his face red with anger and his fists balled up so tight that his white knuckles stood out on his skin. But Clary stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his path to Jace who stood about two feet away inside the gazebo with them. She was in between the two boys, one visibly ticked off and the other having a cool and collected demeanour that egged the other on.

"Shut _up_!" Clary's voice rang clear and loud. She couldn't stand the way that he was doing this to Simon. He had never done anything to Jace as far as she knew and so he didn't deserve it. He seemed to be getting some kind of sick joy out of getting Simon angry at him, and he was good at it too. Simon may have been easy to get angry but Jace had his soft spots targeted. "Why the hell are you even here, Jace? I thought you had too much _work_." Her voice picked up at the end, enunciating the last syllable with an annoyed bark.

When his eyes flickered down to her figure she could almost swear, for a moment, that there was a small amount of gratification in his golden eyes. But it could also have just as easily been the glint of the light reflecting off of them. He gave her a relaxed smile. "I'm taking my break," his voice was sarcastic but not in the frustrating way as it had been before. Now, there was only a slight teasing tone to it, which Clary found amusing, but she wasn't about to show him that. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction; he didn't deserve it, not after the way that he had been treating her. What he really deserved was a slap in the face, but she stopped herself from doing so.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes at him as she felt Simon's chest press into her back agitatedly. Clary could feel the tension him Simon's muscles and she knew that he was ready to start something between the two of them. "Simon, stop. I'm not gonna let you do something stupid," she directed what she said over her shoulder to Simon as Jace, in her peripheral, laughed again.

"No you're not, are you, wittle Simon-cakes?"

That pushed Simon over the edge. He moved to rush around Clary's side and Jace, with a sick smile on his face stepped forward also, ready to take him. Thinking of nothing else to do, Clary darted in front of the both of them again and pushed against their chests with her palms, pushing them away from her. She could feel both of them pushing against her hands on each of their chests as they each tried to move around her, Jace laughing easily and Simon growling and muttering a string of profanities at him. "Oh, for God's sake!" Clary gave both of them a shove and they staggered back. She had definitely gotten their attention now; Simon was looking at her with a look that was somewhere between surprise and treachery, where Jace was looking at her like she had just ruined all of the fun. "Stop it! The both of you! You're acting like idiots."

"Not all of us need to act," Simon growled. Jace, however, looked delighted.

"That's you're only comeback this entire time? Wow, I think you need to work on that," he chortled.

Simon started towards him again with his face twisted with his aggression, and Clary quickly whipped around to face him, putting both her hands against his chest to stop him from getting any closer. "Simon. I think you should leave," she said warningly. Behind her, Jace gave him a smug grin as Simon, ignoring Jace's immaturity, gave her a disbelieving look and opened his mouth to object. "Just go back inside. I need to talk to him, and if you keep charging him like this I'm not going to be able to say anything." His face was a mixture of hurt and confusion as he relaxed his shoulders and arms, defeated.

Behind his glasses, his chocolate eyes softened before he spoke, "But-"

"Go, Simon. I'll be fine." Clary felt horrible as he gave her a scowl and turned abruptly from her and strode down the small steps past Jace, staring him down with a death glare as he did so. She watched his form disappear into the shadows of the ink black night as she mentally kicked herself for making him feel like she liked Jace better. That was certainly not the case and she hadn't wanted him to think that. But judging by his face as he turned to leave, that was exactly what he was thinking. She whipped around to face Jace as he stood, relaxed with a superior look on his face. Instantly she was filled with an extreme urge to hit something or someone, most preferably Jace. _How can he look so calm? Ugh! _She thought angrily. It was his fault_, everything _was Jace's fault.

Without even thinking about it, she rushed up to him and pushed him square in his chest roughly. "What the _fuck _is wrong with you?" At his astonished face, she pushed him again. "Why are you even here? You said you wanted me to stay away from you, and I am! What more do you want?" Her voice had risen to a shriek and, in the back of her mind, she was glad that they were far enough from the party that no one would hear her. Not even caring about the amazed look on his face, she continued with another shove and his back slammed against the railing. He used his arms to brace himself against the wooden barrier and his hands crushed a few of the pretty white blooms that twined around it. "I just can't understand you!"

She stopped her shouting and looked him straight in the eyes as her chest heaved up and down agitatedly. She hadn't yelled like this in ages and it was actually very refreshing. She could get out all of her frustrations this way. A new form of therapy…

He raised his eyebrows at her, astonished. "Are you done?" Again, that stupid smirk covered his lips in the most annoying fashion. She almost growled at him.

"NO! Why are you getting Simon angry?" She took a step closer to him, still glaring at him as she pushed his back further into the railing. "He never did anything to you! NEVER! And you just egg him on like that? You're the _stupidest _person I know, and I _hate-"_

Suddenly, his hands were off of the flowers and were wrapping around her waist. He brought her to him quickly and before she could protest, he crashed his lips onto hers and cut off her furious rant. His lips were hard against her own in his attempt to get her to quiet herself. Clary, who was absolutely baffled by the gesture, stood as still as a rock. The only thing that she could think was _why? _Had he been lying when he told her to stay away from him? But he wasn't that good of an actor… was he? Questions flooded her mind as his kiss softened slightly just before he pulled away but still staying close enough to have his arms circled around her.

"Now are you done?" his voice shook slightly as he spoke, his warm and inviting breath fanning over her face and bringing her out of her stupor.

She faltered before answering this time. "Y-You said-"

His lips stopped her from arguing with him once more but this time less suddenly and softer than before. She had to work to not crumple into the warmth of his chest as his arms tightened around her, bringing her even closer to him. She didn't want to give in to him, but hadn't she wanted this? It felt right to be in the crook of his arm and to have his hands reaching for her touch, but she wasn't about to forget about the way he had acted. But it wasn't as if she didn't like this; his lips had the softly tart taste of a fresh green apple and she wondered distantly if he had just finished eating one. The hands on her waist pulled her ever closer, trying to engage her more into the kiss but Clary, not wanting to be made the fool, remained still. Although, it took an immense effort not to just give in and kiss him back.

Feeling her reluctance, Jace pulled back minutely and gave her a questioning look. Half of her wanted to continue her angry rant, but the other half wanted to have him kiss her once more. Jace noted the confused expression on her face with a small smile on his perfect lips. Her eyes darted up and down from his eyes to his mouth quite a few times as she debated what she wanted; to try not to succumb to the thrill of him holding her like this, or to give up and relish in this moment. His hands squeezed her gently, comfortingly. _Oh, what the hell._

Seemingly reading her thoughts, Jace leaned forward once more and pressed his lips to hers again, but this time somewhat more urgent and needing. His hands roamed over her back more freely this time, warming her body from the inside out. Her anger took a backseat and she was left wondering why she was even so angry at him in the first place. She laced her fingers into his golden hair and he leaned closer to her, the buttons of his tux jacket pressing into her abdomen hard enough to almost be uncomfortable. In contrast, his kiss was so soft and inviting and she practically melted into his arms in search of more. She was getting so lost in his kiss and she couldn't imagine walking away from him. He was warm and hard and soft all at the same time. She could almost completely forget her frustration at him for-

She broke off from him suddenly and staggered away from him, his face a mixture of hurt and anger. Clary's breathing was ragged and irregular as she tried to calm the palpitations of her heart beat. Her conflicting emotions had Jace three steps behind her and he was staring at her in disbelief. He was sure that he could get her to forget her anger but that didn't seem to be the case with her. His brain tried to form a complete sentence as the thoughts within his mind were jumbled from her kiss. "What now? Do you want to yell at me some more?" he said, his voice too shaky and weak for his liking.

"No, I- I want to know why." Her eyes were darting to everything except him; the crushed flowers next to his left elbow, the soft twinkle lights that surrounded the gazebo, and even the darkness beyond the lit enclave that held a small sliver of a moon.

He stared at her in confusion. "Why what?" How she could even be thinking about something else was beyond him. All he could think about at the moment was how beautiful that Clary looked at the moment with her pale cheeks stained a soft pink in her embarrassment and her eyes standing out like green orbs compared to her dress. Thinking about the way she was dressed, he let his gaze wander over her figure and he saw that even though she always covered herself up in big clothing, she was actually tinier than he had originally thought; he could fit one of his arms almost completely around her waist. He watched her look down nervously.

She took a deep breath and sighed, "Why are you so…" she paused, thinking for the correct word, but was unable to find one that suited the way he was acting. He watched her bite her lip and waited for her to continue. When she didn't Clary saw his eyebrow raise, uncomprehending. "It's just… you say these things but they're so… vague. You never say what you're feeling and I… I wonder if it's because…" She finally trailed off at the suddenly guarded expression on his face. She had lost him, lost the one moment that she could have to truly start understanding him. But she wasn't about to give it up without a fight.

Taking a step closer to him she began again, speaking faster and trying to get his attention back. "After the race you just had seemed like you really wanted to tell me something and you were talking all confusing and stuff, and then a week later you were telling me to stay the fuck away from you and that you had never even wanted to say anything to me in the first place." She was near tears, not because of anger but because of the thought of the look on his face that day when he had been so harsh to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked her eyes before she continued, "I just get the feeling that you… want to well…get to know me?" She didn't exactly know how to say that she thought that he liked her without sounding creepy so she had settled on _get to know her. I'm such an idiot, _she thought."But it's just that you don't want to… let your guard down and have me… get to know you too."

Nearing the end of her sentence she had seen his eyes narrow and his brows furrow. Before he even spoke she knew that he was going to deny everything again, just to seem like he didn't have any feelings. Clary, being a girl, liked to believe that she knew when I guy liked her or was lying to her. But seeing as how she had never been in a situation like this, she doubted herself. She wanted to finally know exactly why he had been acting hot and cold to her ever since they had met, and she just knew that her questions wouldn't be answered tonight and maybe not ever. Her face reddened and she looked at her feet in embarrassment. She had thought that maybe he had come to the party to apologize to her but it seemed that her intuition was wrong once again. But then again, he had just been kissing her minutes before. He seemed like he wasn't just doing it to make her shut up. _But maybe he had been and I was just imagining things again… wouldn't be the first time._

There was a moment where all she could hear was the crickets and the night around her, suffocating her as she waited with baited breath for his answer. Not that she was expecting a good one but… still. She needed an answer from him whether it was good or bad. She just couldn't go on without knowing it; her riding was suffering and her nightmares would get worse and even more vivid when she was stressing about him. If he didn't like her the way that she had thought, she hoped that at least knowing what he felt would stop this constant thinking of him. It wasn't healthy for her and she knew it. She watched him anxiously as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Clary thought he looked just as confused with their situation as she was.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, which was enough time for Clary to think that he wasn't going to answer her after all. She would be OK with the fact that he didn't like her, and if not, she would _make _herself OK with it. Just as she was about to tell him to forget she said anything about it, he took his hand from his face and took a step to her, placing his hands in her arms just below her shoulders. He still did not make eye contact with her.

"Clary."

_Oh no. He doesn't. He must think I'm brain dead. Oh my God. _She was freaking out and she felt like she was ready to sprint away and go anywhere but where she was now. Her arms were tense as she made herself stand still to await his answer; she needed to know what he was thinking, truly.

"I have never been close to anyone, and I- I don't really know how things like this-" he gestured between the two of them, "are supposed to work." She wished that he would look at her so that she could see his eyes. She had only known him about a month but she knew from the first day they met that her best bet of knowing what he was truly thinking rested in his liquid gold eyes. "I just- I dunno- I don't want to screw it up."

He finally looked at her and Clary could see the confusion right in his eyes. But behind that confusion was a sadness that she couldn't understand. She wanted more than anything to reach out to comfort him in some way but the expression on his face led her to believe that he wasn't finished talking and that any contact from her would ruin what he was about to say. What that was, was still completely unknown to Clary.

"I never have actually had a…" He paused, hesitating as if something he was about to say was painful or in some way unpleasant to think about. She searched his eyes, silently urging him to move on. He cleared his throat lowly as he looked at her with an almost sheepish expression, as if he thought she was going to punch him again for his next words. "Had an actual girlfriend. I usually just- erm- date…" Clary knew this to mean that he wasn't exactly the nicest guy to girls when it came to relationships: in other words, he was a player. She tried to fight down the sudden warmth that came to her cheeks and neck but she was unsuccessful. Cheeks a scarlet red, she looked down and tried to avoid eye contact with him.

She felt stupid. Of course he wasn't going to want to be with her, not if he was used to girls just throwing themselves at him without any sort of commitment. How could she have thought for even a second that he would be a loyal boyfriend to her? He had no experience with actual relationships…_but neither do I, _said a small voice in the back of her mind. But the difference between them was that she had had no experience with guys in a romantic way, whereas Jace had had experience with girls. _Probably many times. _Clary made an attempt to shield her inevitable scowl from his inquisitive tawny eyes as he gazed at her imploringly.

Had he been expecting someone just to 'casually date' with and then be done with them? Was he trying to find that in her? If he was, he was sadly mistaken. Clary wasn't about to stand there and just be used by this stupid boy. She wasn't the girl who would just give herself away to someone that only sought her out for selfish reasons, or to just add her name to the long list of girls he had most certainly been with. She didn't want to and would never be that brainless girl that fell for the guy that never would consider her enough to have an actual relationship with.

Her embarrassment for her thoughtless idea that he saw her as something more than that left and was replaced by another wave of anger towards him. "Well," she said looking up into his eyes and wrenching her arms away from his grasp with a jerk, "since I'm not your _usual, _I guess I'll just be going now." She whipped around to face the steps and took them two at a time, bunching up her dress to walk faster.

Not even able to look at him anymore, she didn't turn around when she heard him calling after her. Her small feet clacked on the flat slate walkway as the blood rushed in her ears loudly, although, she could still hear his own footfalls close behind her. How he could even think that she would stop and listen to another word that came out of his mouth was beyond her. She was done with him; he obviously wasn't ready to have any commitment with anyone and it would be even more foolish for her to settle for him after him telling her this little fact about himself. Clary had thought that he was different from other people her age, but it turns out, even guys that are older than her still don't have the level of dedication that she was looking for. Growing angrier, she hiked up her dress further to take the steps into the warmly lit rotunda.

As she stewed over his most recent douche-y move, she remembered just how angry she had been at him before. How he had been almost begging for Simon to just come out and punch him, how he had screamed at her to stay away from him, and now how he had just came to this stupid party and to tell her such an idiotic story about his previous love interests. She huffed, irritated, as he continued to call out to her with his voice getting nearer with every step she took away from him.

"Clary wait!" he said again, this time grabbing hold of her right shoulder on the third marble step. She tensed and turned to face him swiftly, her curls swaying around her face with the motion of her head.

She narrowed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice down in fear that someone from within the mansion would overhear them. _"What now?"_ Seeing him flinch back didn't incite any regret in her from her tone with him. As far as she was concerned, he deserved to have his ass handed to him. She was done trying to understand him and the way that he felt about her. He didn't, and obviously wouldn't care about her so it was a moot point for her to even try. "I just completely made a fool of myself only to realize that _you _don't _do _relationships! What more could you _possibly _want from me?"

He spoke quickly, "I didn't mean-"

But his next words were drowned out by the sound of Sebastian's voice saying, "What's going on here?" Looking up to Sebastian for the first time with gratitude, Clary jumped onto the opportunity to get rid of Jace. She gave Sebastian a sweet smile as she looked directly into his black eyes.

"Nothing. He," she jerked her head towards Jace, "was just about to leave." Tugging her shoulder away from his grasp, she walked up the next three steps to stand closely next to Sebastian and wind her arm through his. She felt his arm tighten around hers almost possessively and she watched Jace's expression turn from dumbfounded to furious. Clary glanced coldly down at Jace as she leaned into Sebastian, pretending to be as interested in him as he seemed to be in her. "Now get the hell away from me."

Before she could feel bad about saying it, she turned so that he couldn't say anything else to her and brought Sebastian with her into the large circular room, pulling him by the arm. She just couldn't wait to get away from Jace; the whole point of her coming to the gala was to get her mind off of him. By him coming also and screwing everything up, she had only become more infuriated. At this point she just wanted to go home but she knew that Jace was most likely on his way there right now and seeing him would only worsen the situation. She kept walking and practically dragging Sebastian behind her. Not knowing exactly where she was going, she just let her feet lead her wherever they wanted. She hoped that Sebastian wouldn't ask questions about what he had seen and overheard. He hadn't been a trustworthy person so far…

Suddenly, while fast-walking through the hall that led to the dining room, she felt Sebastian tug back slightly to pull her into the shadows of an adjacent corridor. Her eyes tried to adjust in the sudden darkness and without even having her eyesight as an aid she could tell that the space was small; Sebastian's chest brushed against her own with each of his breaths.

"What was that about?" Sebastian's voice rang out, cutting through the buzzing within her ears. Clary hadn't noticed until now, but her headache had come back with enough force to make her sway on her feet a bit. The pain killers had definitely worn out and now she was left with an empty stomach and a huge migraine. Thankfully Sebastian was there to steady her before she fell over in her heels. Mumbling a meek 'thanks' to the invisible arms that had caught her she tried to step away from him, not comfortable being so close to someone whom she didn't know and didn't trust.

She brought her hand to her temple and rubbed as her mind tried to answer his question without giving away too much information to him. "Nothing. We were just talking and we… It's really no big deal."Her voice sounded weak and tired, but Clary hoped that Sebastian wouldn't take any notice. Too bad that he did. As her eyes finally started to get accustomed to the dimness, she could faintly see his brows furrow and his mouth turn into a frown. In this lighting, she could almost say that he looked sympathetic but, knowing what his attitude was like, she knew that her eyes were playing tricks on her.

His first question seemingly completely forgotten, he asked, "Are you feeling well? Do you need to go home?" There was an undeniable note of concern in his voice and Clary tried to ignore it. She didn't want to think that Sebastian wouldn't be his usual pompous self and then be disappointed when he was. She had been disappointed enough tonight and she didn't want to deal with anything else.

"I'm fine… I just, I think I need to get out of here," her mind was running on empty and she wasn't stupid enough to think that she didn't need some rest. However, she was reluctant to leave when she knew that Jace would be at home. Plus, she still hadn't gotten to have a conversation with Mr. Dubois. She had been counting on this party to at least get her name out there but her plan had turned out to be a complete failure. She sighed heavily and stared at the marble floor.

He took a step closer to her, his eyes as soft as his voice. "I can take you to your home, if you would like that is. I know that you don't trust me."

Apparently she wasn't hiding her distrust of him very well. She was taken aback that he would say something about it though and it brought her up short of an answer. No, she did not trust him and she would really rather have someone else take her home, but she hadn't seen Luke or Amatis anywhere. And even if she had found them she certainly wouldn't want to be a baby and have them take her home just because she had a headache. Another option would have been asking Isabelle but last time Clary had seen her she was having fun dancing with an extremely good looking guy and Clary didn't want to ruin what she had going on. She bit her lip as she forced her brain to decide what a good decision was before she answered him in a small but thankful voice.

"Please. I can't stand being here anymore," she said, her body feeling the entirety of the weight that she had been carrying over the past few days. Her shoulders slumped forward slightly in defeat; she couldn't try to pretend that she didn't need help right now. She had been trying her hardest this last week to truly do things on her own and do her best as a jockey but all of this concentration and exhaustion was only bringing her further from where she wanted to be. That, plus the fact that Jace had been constantly on her mind did nothing for her. Now, she was planning on starting over next week after a weekend of nice, restful sleep. Working herself to the bone nearly every day was definitely grounds to take a weekend off. She could talk to Mr. Dubois at another time; she was positive that this party would not be the last one that she would see in the near future. Although she was disappointed that she hadn't actually talked to him, he seemed to have noticed her when she was talking to Magnus. And being friendly with Magnus certainly didn't look bad considering his popularity.

She kept thinking about the positives as Sebastian led her through the crowds of people with his hand on the small of her back to keep her steady. _I haven't fallen once tonight, well, at least not yet, I don't have to deal with Jace as a problem anymore_… She couldn't think of anything else besides that. She started to focus on the pounding pain in her head again and she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping. Not thinking about the pain lessened it but her mind was running blank at this point and it was all she could think about. She had had headaches before, typically when she wasn't sleeping as much as she should, but this was the worst migraine she had ever had. The left side of her head was throbbing and she felt as if she would throw up but there was nothing in her stomach. She leaned into Sebastian some, trying to just make it out the door and to his car so she could sit down. As they walked down the marble steps she distantly felt Sebastian's arm tighten around her waist to keep her from falling. "Come on, my car is just over here."

His car happened to be the black BMW that Clary had seen as they drove up to the Lightwood's house. She was surprised she had actually remembered such a small thing but she didn't question it as she gratefully slid into the passenger seat, clicked on her seatbelt, and laid her head back into the soft and supple leather seating.

""""""""

The radio in Sebastian's car was turned on low to some classical station; the soft symphonies making Clary's headache dull slightly, to which she was glad. She was also glad that Sebastian didn't talk on the way to her house. But whether that was because he didn't want to talk or because he thought that she didn't want him to talk was something that Clary didn't know and didn't exactly care about. _At least he isn't, _she thought. All she was thinking about now was changing out of her dress and collapsing onto her bed and just sleeping for the remainder of her life. At this point, getting up would be near impossible for her to do. Clary guessed it was about eleven o'clock but she didn't even have the energy to shift her position to look at the digital clock on the dashboard. However, she did get a quick glance at the barn as the car passed it and she saw it dark as it always was at this time of night.

Her mind was in a sort of dream like state and she almost wondered if she was sleeping when Sebastian parked the car right beside Michael's truck. _I thought he was still at the party…_she thought, confused. _Why would he come back here anyways? Wouldn't he want to go home? _As she kept asking herself questions, she started to feel the throbbing in her head intensify and she decided that whatever Michael was doing was not worth the pain that fussing over it caused.

Unbuckling her seatbelt and slowly opening the door, she stepped out and started walking mechanically to the front door with Sebastian beside her. His arms were out, seemingly waiting for her to faint and fall into them. His carefulness annoyed her but overall she was grateful that he had taken her home- even if he was babying her now. She waved his arms away as she walked up the steps and came to a halt at the top of them. "I've got it from here Sebastian. Thanks for taking me home," she said tiredly as she shuffled through her clutch to find the keys.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod silently. "It was no problem, Clarissa," he said softly. His voice held the quietness of someone visiting a patient at a hospital. This was another thing that irked her but she brushed it off telling herself she was cranky from loss of sleep. She didn't want to be a bitch to him after he had been so nice to her tonight, and if she was going to be truthful she would say that she was starting to trust him. But one thing was definitely confusing her after tonight's happenings with him. Something didn't make sense with the way that he was acting now.

"Sebastian?" she asked after grabbing a hold of her keys and turning to him. He looked up from his shiny shoes to look into her eyes expectantly. She cleared her throat, "Why did you do what you did at the race?"

He stared at her for a few moments, assessing something about her before he answered. "You mean, why did I risk my license to bump Caspian?" Clary nodded stiffly, remembering that day when she was so angry with him. "Maryse. She wanted to win by any way necessary, and that meant threatening my career if I didn't do as she asked. I initially wanted to quit and be rid of her but… you know how much power she holds over racing. She would have ruined me. I- I never wanted to hurt you or your family." He paused, his features pained. "I'm so sorry for my actions." He sounded genuinely regretful for what he had done; he no longer had the superior look he had had on that first day that she had met him. For now, he was an equal.

A wave of hatred crossed over her, but in the back of her mind she had always known that Maryse had had something to do with what had happened. She was not angry at Sebastian though, she was happy that he thought her important enough not to lie to her about something so serious. He was basically forced to do what he had done. Not that Clary would have done the same as he had done, but she could understand where he was coming from. "Thank you for telling me," she said with a thoughtful nod before she started turning back to the door.

As she rested her hand on the doorknob, she turned one last time to look at him as he was walking down the steps to his car. "Call me Clary."

He opened his car door and looked up at her, nodding, before he got in and thrummed the engine to life. Clary closed the door just as she heard him speed away down the driveway. She was glad that the two of them had come to an understanding with each other, even though they seemed to come from two completely different worlds. But, what she really wanted to do now was strangle Maryse Lightwood. Where did she get off telling people to harm others horses just so her horse would win? It wasn't fair, but Clary knew that she couldn't do anything about it. If she told the racing board she was sure nothing would come of it; Maryse had friends on the inside. The bump during the race had been an obvious foul but this was something different. Her friends would cover up for her and whatever Clary said would just be brushed off as if she were a silly child.

The only thing she could do was kick Maryse's ass in the next race that they were both in.

Clary yawned hugely on her way to her bedroom. She was done thinking for the night; her head was still throbbing and her stomach was still empty. Quickly, she slipped off her dress, hung it up neatly so the beautiful fabric wouldn't get wrinkled, and pulled on her favourite Winnie the Pooh night shirt. She shuffled over to her nightstand and popped a few of the painkillers she had into her mouth and washed them down with water from the tap in the bathroom. She felt the cold liquid run down her throat and into her empty stomach where she felt it rumble and groan. She was tired but she figured if she didn't eat something the painkillers wouldn't even work that well. She continued to shuffle into the kitchen.

Opening the refrigerator, she stood there and stared blankly at its contents. Nothing looked appealing, so she opened the freezer door and took out a pint of her favourite ice-cream. Chocolate hazelnut. Her fuzzy slippers scraped against the floor as she made her way over to the couch where she laid down on her back and ate another spoonful. She could lay there forever just herself, her ice-cream and Pooh. Shifting the pillow behind her head, she finished another spoonful and her eyes started drifting shut. Wanting to give in to her drowsiness she put the empty ice-cream container on the floor and curled up, wriggling her toes in her slippers as she got comfortable.

If she had been expecting a dreamless sleep she had been mistaken. Again, her mind was troubled with images from the night of her mother's death: the soft hallway light illuminated her mother's frightened face as she stood, back against the wall, cowering away from a man that stood in front of her. The blade that was put to her mother's throat glinted ominously from the man's hand. But it the hand didn't look the same at it had before. No, it had changed. It was younger, belonging to someone that hadn't seen as much of the hardships of life as the one before it had. As she looked at the entire scene she saw that the man was even wearing different clothing than before. His arms, no longer sheathed, bore the black markings of ink. She wanted to see who this new man was, to try to stop him from hurting her mother further. But his back was to her.

Clary, standing motionless by the cracked door, saw the man press the knife into her mother's throat harder causing her to whimper and plead for him to stop. She always tried to help her mother, and this time was no different. She thrashed and screamed but her dream-self didn't move no matter how hard she tried. She heard the sound of the blade cutting through flesh echo in her ears as she watched the blood pour down and blossom slowly onto the hardwood floors in absolute horror. For once, her dream allowed her scream to be heard.

But, just as she thought she couldn't stand it any longer, the man turned and showed his face to her. It was no longer the man that she had first seen on that fateful night. This was not a man. This was a boy that she saw before her and he had his hands covered with her mother's blood as she laid limply, eyes unseeing, on the cold flooring. She saw the wicked flash in his topaz eyes and she knew exactly who it was. Jace. He smiled depravedly as if he had found nothing wrong with what he had just done. Her dream-self screamed again as she heard his heavy footsteps coming towards her. _Thump. _She tried to wrench herself away from the door as she saw him take out the blade again but she still could not move away. _Thump. _He stood only feet away and he was whispering something to her that she couldn't understand. _Thump. _She started hearing a voice in the distance to accompany the thumping and she strained to hear what it was saying.

Just before the blade slashed toward her the scene was gone and she was back inside her own house. She jolted up, afraid and sweating, and noticed that the room was bright with a natural light. Much too bright for it to be night time still, the second thing she noticed was that the thumping in her dream was actually someone knocking on the door. She tried to get up to answer it but her legs were tangled up in a large knitted blanket. _Amatis and Luke must have come by late last night, _she thought quickly as she ripped it off of herself to answer the frenzied knocks on the door.

She hurried to the door and thrust it open only to slam it shut again as soon as she saw who stood behind it. "What the hell Clary!" Jace's voice shouted angrily at the closed door. She already didn't feel like talking to him after what had happened last night but after her unsettling dream she especially felt no need to even go near him. "Open the door for Christ sakes! We've got a problem." She debated locking the door and walking away but something in his voice stopped her. He sounded worried. Really worried.

Heaving a sigh, she opened the door again. "What is it now?"

* * *

_Review please if you are still bothering to read this... ;) I hope you all have a wonderful and safe holiday break! Cheers!_

_PS: You guys can expect another chapter before the holiday break is over_


	11. Chapter 11

_And here is the new chappie! Long awaited, I know. But many thanks to my Beta, **Cookie Monster n' Elmo**!_

_Characters belong to the incredibly talented Cassandra Clare. I just have fun with them :)_

* * *

Amatis paced the kitchen in her loose fitting white pajamas as she worried her already mussed chocolate hair. Luke sat at the table scrubbing his face with the palm of his callused hand. Sitting in the old floral armchair, Jace's face was as expressionless as always. Clary figured he was thinking hard about something but she wasn't sure what so she just sat cuddled up on the couch as she waited for their group to figure out what to do. She was ready to scream at this point and it had only been five minutes since she frantically awoke her aunt and uncle after hearing what Jace had reported on. She still couldn't believe that this had actually happened and it couldn't have happened at a worse time. Clary, anxious about the entire situation, pulled at her nightshirt as she analyzed her morning so far.

When she had seen him staring at her, wide eyed through the screen door, she could tell that his face was paler than it usually was. His eyes, cold and anxious despite their warm color, watched Clary as she had put her hands on her hips and waited for him to start speaking. She didn't want to believe that something was wrong but his expression had said it all. Even the way that he had been standing led her to believe it. That, plus the fact that he probably wouldn't have been talking to her if there wasn't anything wrong. She had looked at him expectantly as she waited for him to explain this sudden and early awakening.

"I checked the horses this morning like I always do and… at least eight of them were just… just gone," his face had been a mixture of shock and disbelief, which was much different from the way he looked now. At least he had had an expression. "Their stalls were just wide open and the rubber ties weren't even attached. I don't know how they did it but…" he had trailed off in a complete loss for words. Clary's skin had gone ice cold as he spoke and she had stared at him dumb and unseeing. She still wasn't completely aware of her surroundings seeing as she was in a constant state of astonishment. As she had stood there, somehow her brain had formed a coherent thought and she voiced it aloud.

"Who?" It had only been a whisper but he had heard her and understood it correctly, for which she was glad. She hadn't been sure if she could say anything more to explain her thoughts since they had been, and still were, a complete and utter jumbled mess.

He looked down at her like he was going to tell her that someone had just died. "Caspian's gone too."

And at that, Clary's stomach had twisted. She knew quite well that southern California had predators in the wild that could be dangerous to horses if they came in contact with them. Mountain lions, for instance, were one of the most common. Even though it was disturbing that many of the other horses had gotten out she still couldn't stand the thought of Caspian being hurt somewhere up in the mountains. Most of the other horses that had escaped were horses that didn't belong to Morningstar anyway. Although, the calls that Amatis would soon have to make to those who owned the horses would not be pleasant at all. Clary was sure that most if not all of the people that were boarding their horses there would pull them out as soon as possible. If they were found that was.

She knew that Caspian had been up in the mountains occasionally but she also knew that he was not familiar with areas that were off the beaten track. And hopefully, Cas wouldn't have led himself and the other horses off that trail. Other predators however, who were familiar with their surroundings, would take this as an opportunity for fresh meat. Clary cringed as she thought about all of the possible things that could have happened to the horses already. She could just hope that they would have enough common sense to come home.

As Clary had tried to wrap her head around the whole thing, Jace kept talking, "He might've been the one to get out first 'cause the lock on his stall door was busted. I'm not sure but when I looked outside the barn, the hoof prints seemed to be going towards to mountains." He paused; seeming to have remembered something that he didn't like. His face was set into a worried and confused expression. "Clary? There are mountain lions up here aren't there?"

Slowly, she swallowed the thickness in her throat and looked up at him. "Yes," she replied her voice still heavy. She stared at him for what seemed like an hour before blinking and turning away from him, ready to get started on getting a search party ready. "I need to go wake up my aunt," she said, looking back at him as she hurried down the hallway. He was still behind the screen door and she had decided to be nice and just let him in. "Come in and sit down."

And now here she was sitting and waiting for her aunt and uncle to stop pacing and huffing so that they could just get started on looking for the horses. Just watching them was making Clary even more anxious about it. It was a wonder that she hadn't started losing her hair with all of the stress in her life. She raked and hand through her hair as she thought about being bald before the age of seventeen.

Luke scratched his jaw once more before he spoke for the first time that morning. "Well, we need to get started here. No use in just waiting," he grunted as he stood up from one of the wooden chairs as that kitchen table. "Now, I think it's best if we start calling the owners now. Amatis?" He turned to his sister with a businesslike expression, he didn't look as worried as he did before but Clary figured he was putting on a strong face to lessen the situation. "Can you make the calls? I'm gonna go start getting what we'll need for the trip out there."

Amatis nodded quietly and started rummaging through the desk drawer for the log of who was boarding their horses at Morningstar. While she was looking, Luke turned to Clary and Jace in the living room. "Clary, you and Jace come with me," he said before striding towards the door.

Clary got up quickly from the couch and was immediately aware of how little clothing she was wearing when she saw Jace staring at her thigh where her night shirt had ridden up much to far for her liking. She laughed, nervous, as she blushed furiously and quickly pulled the fabric down further. She watched him move his eyes to the floor before she skittered to her room and grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor and yanked them on. Hastily zippering them up and buttoning them, she went back to the kitchen and slipped on her old worn pair of sneakers and ran outside to meet up with Jace and Luke.

When she got outside she could already feel the heat of the oncoming day although it was still only about seven. Light filtered through the canopy of trees and landed on the ground, warming up the cool earth. Looking towards the sun, she could see rays of light bursting through the misty air off in the distance. It looked like the day was going to be another scorcher. She sighed heavily, thinking about the horses being dehydrated. She couldn't help being pessimistic about the situation, especially after the shitty things had been happening lately. Really the only thing that had gone right recently was Cas winning the race. If he'll even be able to race again after this... Wanting to stop thinking about the negatives she shook her head and jogged to where her uncle and Jace were standing near the entryway to the barn.

Luke turned his attention to her as she came up to them. "Clary, I want you to get Simon and Isabelle out here to help also. The four of you are going out as the search party," he said quickly as he walked into the near empty barn. "You're gonna need a lot of gear cause I don't know how long this is gonna take. Might even take a day or two to get a trail on them, but you're good at that Clary…" He continued on to talk about the several items they would and would not need as he moved towards the tack room. But what Clary was wondering was why he had said the four of you. He had only mentioned three, unless he was expecting Michael to get there?

She interrupted his explanation for why not bringing a tent was a good idea with, "What do you mean the four of us? Is Michael coming?" He frowned.

"Well, for whatever goddamn reason, Michael isn't picking up his phone and he was supposed to be here and hour ago anyways. You're leaving without him I guess unless he shows up here within the next half-hour or so…" He paused and jerked his head in Jaces direction. "As for number four, Jace will be going too."

Her eyes widened. "What! He doesn't even know how to ride!" She couldn't believe that Luke thought that she was supposed to be looking for the horses and babysitting Jace at the same time. What help would he possibly be if he couldn't keep up? This is one of the dumbest ideas Luke has ever had, she thought, glaring from Luke to Jace. She didn't want to have to deal with Jace for an entire weekend if that's how long it would take. She huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm not going to babysit while we're out there!"

Jace raised his eyebrows past his hairline and his topaz eyes sparked in the golden light of the sun. "Babysit?" he scoffed, offended. "What the hell gives you the right to say that? You're-"

Luke narrowed his eyes at her warningly as he cut him off in a stiff voice. "He has proven himself to be an excellent rider considering how little time he has had to learn. And last I checked, you were the one that taught him, am I wrong?" He peered at her and waited for her to protest, which she did not. She didn't want to piss him off further because, right now, it looked like he was ready to snap. "Now, unless you're ready to start judging your own skills at teaching riding, I suggest you shut your mouth," he paused and sighed before he continued in a less offensive tone." I don't know what problem you two have with each other, but its stopping. Now." His voice was hard and unforgiving as he watched them both. Evidently he had noticed the tiff that they were having over the past few weeks.

Clary unfolded her arms and let her shoulders droop. "Fine," she said, not wanting to make Luke angrier. He already was uptight because of the horses getting loose, like the rest of the family was, but she didn't want to fight with her uncle too. She was too exhausted. Jace relaxed his shoulders also and waited for further instructions from Luke with an unreadable expression.

"Now Clary, go call Simon and Isabelle and ask if they can get down here. We could really use their help," he picked up two lead lines from the rack to his right and threw one to Jace who caught the object quickly. "I'll get you a horse and tack him up for you."

She quickly moved past Jace to the phone that they kept in the tack room. It was old and busted up from all of the times that it had dropped from its cradle on the wall but it still worked and that was all that mattered. Her uncle and Jace walked out and she could hear the doors of the stalls sliding through their metal tracks along with the ringing through the phone as she waited for Simon to pick up. Not being all too sure that Simon would even bother to answer the phone so early on a Saturday morning, she tapped her fingers on the wall nervously.

He answered on the last ring. "Ergh?" he slurred tiredly; obviously she had woken him up. Feeling only slightly bad that she had disrupted his sleeping, she rushed into an explanation about what had happened and how she really needed his help. She could tell that he had been angry with her the night before at the party but she was hoping that he would still come anyways. She really hadn't meant for it to seem like she was blowing him off to talk to Jace that night but that was the way he had taken it.

"… And I'm going to call Isabelle too to see if she can come," she said, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't, she suspected that he had fallen back asleep. "So… how does that sound? Will you come?" she asked again, still waiting. She could hear the rustle of fabric on the other end as well as the sound of a jacket zipper.

Suddenly there was a large thud and a crash as he dropped the phone. "Sorry! Sorry! Yeah, I'm coming right now. I just need to find my shoes…" he trailed off and she could hear him running through his house.

"Thanks Simon," she said gratefully. She smiled into the phone, glad that she had him as a friend. He was always there for her even when she didn't really deserve it. In a way, he was like a brother to her. "I'll see you in five?"

There was another bumping noise followed by a few curses. "Ow, yeah."

She laughed half-heartedly and hung up before dialing Isabelle number quickly and waiting for the ring. Unlike Simon, Isabelle was an early starter. She answered on the first ring. "Oh, shut up already!" Clary heard Isabelle yelling in the background. She didn't sound all too happy. "Hello?" Isabelle lowered her voice with a sigh into the phone.

Clary gave her the same story that she gave Simon and Isabelle promised she would be over as soon as possible. As Clary was talking there were a few more yells in the background mostly sounding like Maryse's voice. But when Clary asked what the problem was Isabelle brushed it off as another one of her mother's "incessant nagging streaks" that had become somewhat of a morning ritual.

Isabelle quickly switched the subject right back to the horses. "Michael is coming to help too right?"

Clary sighed. "He's not even here. He was supposed to be here like usual at six but he wasn't. Which was weird because I saw his car last night when…" she paused not too sure if she should tell Isabelle about how she got home last night. She didn't want to provoke any probing questions that would surely be asked if she told her. Clearing her throat she continued, "When I got home." Clary hoped she would hear the sudden change in the tone of her voice. She tried her best to hide it but the fact was that she was a horrible liar.

Isabelle hesitated before answering. "How exactly did you get home last night? You left before I could even say goodbye." Clary could practically see the pout on her face as she talked. She would feel horrible if she blatantly lied to her best friend but she also knew that Isabelle didn't care too much for Sebastian at all. She wouldn't understand the way he had changed last night considering that the only thing that she had seen from him was an arrogant attitude and a disqualification in his last race. Hell, I don't even understand what made him act so differently, she thought.

"I… um… Sebastian took me home," she said quickly wanting to get off of the subject as fast as possible.

"Woah. Hold on a second there. Sebastian Verlac? The idiotic guy that almost made Caspian lame? That Sebastian? What?" Isabelle's astonished voice rang through the telephone. Clary sighed. She knew that Isabelle would freak out.

Clary twirled the phone cord around her pinky finger. "He- he was just different last night, OK? I had a huge headache and-" Clary kicked the door to the tack room closed, not wanting Jace to overhear the rest of what she was going to say. "And Jace ended up being at the party, don't ask me how the fuck he got there but I guess I looked like shit after I talked to him so Sebastian took me home. That's all." She really didn't feel like talking about it anymore. Just thinking about last night was giving her another headache.

Isabelle made a noise that sounded like she was choking. "Jace? What the hell! He was not on the invite list." Clary could hear the jangle of keys in the background as Isabelle spoke. "OK. I'm going right now and when I get to your house you are going to tell me everything… alrighty?" The sound of the engine starting reached Clary's ears, signaling that Isabelle was already on her way.

Just as Clary was about to respond, she heard Isabelle's phone click shut. Sighing, Clary put the phone back onto its cradle and walked out of the tack room to see whom Luke had chosen for her to ride. As she walked up to him she saw that he had already finished tacking up George and was starting on filling the saddle bags with various items including a flashlight, a box of matches, and a hoof pick. Patting the horse's soft chestnut coat, she said, "Simon and Isabelle are coming. I'll go tack up two more." Luke jerked his head noncommittally and returned to rushing around the barn gathering the small things that they would need for the trip out.

Shrugging, Clary went to two more stalls and got a horse out of each one and tied them up individually. She practically ran to the tack room and threw a saddle blanket over her shoulder as well as a heavy western saddle. She bent over under the weight and tried to shift it to her hip when Jace came up behind her.

"Let me help," he said, he hands outstretched and waiting to assist her. Clary scoffed. _Yeah right, dickface._ She wasn't about to look like a weak little girl and accept his offer. She still didn't even want to be looking at him, let alone talking to him. Luke told her to stop fighting with him, not to be nice to the guy. And she wasn't going to forgive him for his idiocy that easily. She kept walking to the dappled gelding that stood down the hallway, completely ignoring him.

Jace sighed and flopped his arms down to his side. "OK, look. I'm trying to be the good guy here. Can't you just try and do the same?" Clary hoisted the saddle up and onto Mozart, starting to cinch up the girth and check the stirrup length. She couldn't believe that he thought he was being the good guy. How could he think that not talking to her, fighting with her and her friend, and pretty much leading her on was being a good guy? Deciding to bite her tongue and not blow up on him, she turned and walked past him to get another saddle for the second horse she had tied to the crossties.

As she reached for the saddle blanket in the tack room, Jace put his hand on her shoulder and spun her to look at him. "Why won't you just talk to me?"

At that, Clary cracked up and started laughing. For the first time in what seemed to be a long time, she laughed wholeheartedly and it felt great to let out some of the tension she had been building up over the past month. "Me? ... Not… to you?" she gasped, still laughing as she tried to speak. She couldn't believe he was trying to turn what she had said to him weeks ago back onto her. It made no sense. She at least had a reason for not wanting to talk to him but he just… didn't.

"What's so funny?"

She bit her lip as she tried to control her laughter. "I said basically the same thing to you a few weeks ago," she said, sobering up at the thought of him yelling at her. "And you had no reason to not want to talk to me."

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn't argue his point any further. Clary figured that he knew that she was right so she raised her eyebrows at him before grabbing the saddle pad from the large chest and turning to walk out.

She quickly hefted the saddle onto the pad that rested on the horses back and cinched up the girth just as Simon came running into the barn. Clary stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him, his glasses askew and his hair spiked up in weird directions. His shirt has inside out and wrinkled, and his shoes weren't tied. She resisted the urge to laugh as he stood, panting.

"I got here as fast as I could," he said between breaths. "What d'you want me to do?"

"Well, sit down first," she said gesturing to the stool that sat to the left of her. "What did you do, run here?" He sat and leaned back into the wall as she continued to gear up the horse.

He groaned. "Yeah."

Clary snorted. "Why didn't you just ride your bike? You just got a new one didn't you?" She turned to him when she finished to look at his dumbfounded face. "Ah, that's why." He had obviously forgotten about his bike in his haste to get there. It was nice to know that he was so concerned about her and it made it seem like he really was a big brother to her. She knew that he would always be there for her, through thick and thin. She gave him a half smile and said, "You can go into the house and ask Amatis to find four sleeping bags, OK?"

"Sure!"

He got up and nearly ran past the horses, causing them to shuffle nervously with his abrupt movement. When he reached the driveway, Isabelle practically ran him over in her Porsche as she screeched to a halt on the gravel driveway, pebbles shooting out in all directions. Isabelle got out, stepping for one of the first times with sneakered feet onto the gravel. She ripped off her sunglasses and glared at Simon who was staring at her with an astounded expression. "Hey," was all she said before she strode into the barn, patted the horses as she walked by, and came to a stop in front of Clary. With her hands slung casually in her back pockets, Clary noticed that she wasn't wearing her usual fancy clothes, which was something that she hadn't seen her do in years. Her jeans were a dark wash and looked frayed at the bottom from wear, and her top was just a basic band t-shirt. It looked like she hadn't even brushed her hair that morning but Isabelle didn't seem to care.

"You packing up?" she sighed, looking sympathetic. Clary knew that her compassion was real but looking at her eyes filled with the emotion was unbearable. It made her feel like she already knew Caspian and the rest of the horses were lost for good, or even worse, dead. The heaviness that already resided in her stomach grew even heavier and she turned from Isabelle and shut one of the flaps on the saddlebag and blinked her stinging eyes. She didn't want to think so pessimistically about the situation but it was hard when it seemed like things wouldn't pull through.

Looking up from the floor she replied, "Yeah, can you help me with this?" She gestured to the girth that needed to be cinched and Isabelle nodded as she walked closer. Clary went to the shelf a few feet away and grabbed a few lead lines, rolling them up and placing them in the saddlebag. Neither of the girls spoke for quite a few minutes.

"What happened last night?" Isabelle asked, breaking the somber silence. She knew that she should tell Isabelle more about what had happened but she really wasn't in the mood to do it. Not with the horses gone and everyone worrying. But she bit her tongue and sighed, giving her a full explanation about the events of the night before.

At Isabelle's astonished face, Clary continued with her explanation. "I'm not even sure why Jace was there. All he did was make Simon and I angry. After we had uh… talked," Clary left out the kissing part, thinking Isabelle might explode from drama overload, "I ran back into the house and Sebastian pulled me aside and offered to take me home. It's not like I trust him or anything but I just felt so terrible and I'm pretty sure I was crying and him there at that moment was just somewhat of a comfort." She took a deep breath, as Isabelle looked more understanding. "I just needed to talk to someone that wasn't either Simon or Jace and I guess Sebastian was that someone. Does that make sense?"

Isabelle's eyes softened. "Of course it does, hun. I just wish I could have been there for you, I'm a sucky friend aren't I?" she joked, lightening the mood. She leaned in and gave Clary a strong hug. "Now the only thing I'm confused about is why Sebastian changed so much… he seemed like such a dick that first day we saw him," she pondered, shrugging her shoulders. Clary shrugged her shoulders also just as Jace waltzed back into the barn carrying two of the four sleeping bags. Simon scurried along behind him with a sour face as he hefted the other two. Isabelle flashed Clary a look and stood up, offering to take one of the sleeping bags from Simon.

Jace slipped past Clary on his way to attach the sleeping bag to the back of George's saddle, his arm quickly brushing against hers and causing unwanted goosebumps on her skin. She didn't want to want him anymore. He truly wasn't all that appealing considering he was mean and sarcastic and noncommittal. But, she still had an undeniable need to find out what was up with him. He was troubled and Clary wanted to know what the problem was, not that she was going to want to help him with the way he had been acting towards her. _What a douche_, she thought with frustration.

She turned towards him, seeing that he was having trouble attaching the sleeping bag, and walked over to him. He glanced at her as he saw her coming towards him and she silently took charge of the situation. She quickly tied the sleeping bag to the saddle and when she was finished she looked up at him expectantly.

"Thanks," he grunted, pushing his hair back and out of his face. His hair had gotten even longer since he had been at Morningstar, she noticed. It fell into his eyes and covered them when he didn't sweep it back. _So cute…_ She mentally shook herself for thinking something like that. She didn't want to think about how cute Jace was. _Although he is…_ But the fact of the matter was that Jace was someone that she didn't want to talk to. But looking at him is fine… She chastised that annoying part of her mind that kept telling her that she liked him still. It was obviously delusional. She nodded and turned from him smartly, moving to help a discombobulated Simon.

""""""""

When the four of them had finished getting all of their supplies together Luke met them out in front of the barn as they all stood near each of their assigned horses. Luke went over the things they needed one more time to make sure that they had everything just as Amatis walked out of the house, screen door slapping shut behind her, to join their group. Her brows were furrowed in a somewhat constant state of worry as she listened to Luke spouting off the various items that they had. She was still dressed in her pajamas, a long white nightgown with fuzzy yellow slippers. She held the cordless house phone in her hand as she looked towards Clary and gave her a small and unsure smile. Clary could tell that she had had a tough time talking to the owners and she felt bad that Amatis had to deal with that. Clary watched as Amatis turned her gaze to the ground and wiggled her toes in her slippers, thinking hard.

"That's all you will need I think. Each of you have cell phones right?" Luke asked, and the four of them nodded. "Good. I want you all to stay together and don't go off by yourselves. We don't need anyone else to get lost in these woods," he said warningly. "Call the house if there's any problems; Amatis and I will both be here if the horses decide to come back on their own." Luke shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked at them with a very fatherly expression. "And stay safe out there."

The group decided that that was the end of his speech and they all moved to mount their horses; Clary on George, Isabelle on Mozart, Simon on an old gray gelding named Jumanji, and Jace on one of the new arrivals to Morningstar named Starfire. Luke walked over to Clary to give her a leg up but Clary dismissed him and got up on her own using one of the slats in the fence. Luke shook his head with a half smile, "Always wanting to do things on your own." He gave a small laugh as Clary nodded and smiled slightly.

His face turned serious fast. "I want you to keep you head out there. You're most likely gonna be the leader out there so don't do something stupid." He patted her leg as he looked up at her before walking away to help the others. Clary knew that he was concerned about their safety and that wasn't a bad thing, but Clary was sure of herself. She had been out in the mountains many times and she knew some tracking techniques that could help them find the horses. Her worrying had subsided some and now she just wanted to get out there and find the horses as fast as possible. She knew that there was still a chance that some of the horses could be hurt or even worse, but he had decided to start having a more hopeful outlook on the situation. She really didn't want to keep thinking that Caspian was gone for good. Just the thought tore at her heart and made her eyes sting. She couldn't bear to lose him.

Clary quickly glanced at Simon who was shifting in the saddle as he got used to riding again. She guessed that he hadn't been on a horse since last summer and he had lost some of the comfort that he used to have while on horseback. He returned her glance and finished squirming to give her a small reassuring smile. Her emotions must have been written on her face because he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking about. His smile was much appreciated. Clary needed all the reassuring she could get to stop thinking about the worst scenario possible.

Wiping those thoughts from her mind, she looked to Isabelle who appeared confident and ready. She had taken her long dark hair out of its messy bun and now it flowed down past her shoulders. Simon had followed Clary's eyes to look at Isabelle himself and Clary could see the awe in his eyes. She smiled as Simon continued to stare at her as she fixed her reins and patted Mozart on his neck.

Finally, Clary looked at Jace who was still mounting Starfire. He settled in quickly and he looked completely comfortable in the saddle. He must have gone riding on his own, she thought, noting how he looked like he had been riding for a while already. IN a way she felt as if he should have told her that he went out riding, but she also knew that he didn't exactly like her or talking to her so he probably didn't even feel the need to. She sighed and wondered how the two of them would get along on this trip. Certainly she didn't want to be bickering with him the entire time, especially if this trip lasted days. But she didn't see how they could fix their relationship from where it was already. She sighed again and started wondering where the horses might be.

She guessed that by now the horses would probably be thirsty and would want to find water. Lake Berryessa was just one of the many lakes in the area but it was the closest one; it only took about an hour to get there, and the horses were most likely more than an hour away. Clary figured that following the tracks as far as they would let them would work best and if the track was lost they could check the surrounding lakes. She was just worried about the tracks leading up the mountain. That would be one of the worst scenarios considering the large cats that roamed those areas of higher elevation.

As Clary thought, Amatis wished them all good luck and Luke suggested riding for only a few hours at a time and then taking rest stops because of the heat. There was no need to give the horses more reason to be tired and dehydrated on the trip. As they said good bye, the four of them trotted off in the direction of the mountains with Clary in front of the pack.

After the initial "let's do this, and go that way" talk, there wasn't much talking after that. For the most part everyone just rode silently and followed Clary; all keeping their eyes on the land for anything that might help them find the horses faster. After about an hour or so of riding, Isabelle pointed out that there were a few small broken branches and hoof prints going off into a different direction from the track that they had started on. As Simon and Isabelle argued over which direction they should go in next, Clary rolled her eyes and dismounted, leaving George ground tied, to get a better look at the prints.

She walked over and crouched closer to the ground, wiping a finger in the dirt. It came up dusty. "These are old. At least two days maybe three… They didn't go this way; these prints are from mustangs you guys," Clary said matter-of-factly, effectively ending Isabelle and Simon's debate.

"I told you, Simon," Isabelle said confidently as she flipped some of her hair out of her sweaty face. Although it was only about eleven thirty, it was so hot that all of them were sweating, even Isabelle who never did.

"Oh," was all he said. He reached down and took his canteen out of one of the flaps his saddlebag and took a sip looking harassed.

Jace, who hadn't spoken at all, piped up. "How do you know that?"

The three of them looked over at him as if they had almost forgotten he was even there. "Uh, well," she cleared her throat awkwardly and continued, "you can tell that these horses weren't wearing shoes." She pointed to the older tracks. "And that these," she shifted her arm to point to the path that they were already on, "were. All the horses at Morningstar have shoes on at least two of their hooves." They all stared at her. "What?" she asked, confused as to why they were all giving her the same dumbfounded look.

Simon smiled at her. "That's amazing," he said, twisting the lid to his canteen back on. "I would never have noticed that."

"That's not saying much…" Jace muttered quietly, but loud enough that Clary heard him. She flashed him a look of petulance before she stood up, dusted herself off, and walked back over to George, taking out some of the peanut butter sandwiches that Amatis had made for them.

"Let's stop and rest here for a bit," Clary said, tossing a sandwich to Simon after he dismounted. She turned and walked to one of the large trees around them that lent enough shade so that they could escape the blistering heat. She slumped against the side of the trunk and slid down to the ground, plopping herself into a seated position with a huff. Simon came to sit beside her as Isabelle took a swig from her canteen and held her opposite arm out for a sandwich, which Clary tossed to her. Jace sat a little further away from them that made Clary a bit irritated. Did he dislike her that much that he didn't even want to sit near her? She scowled and threw one of the bagged sandwiches at his face.

He caught the item swiftly before it thumped to the ground. "What the hell?" he asked, looking at Clary directly for the first time in over three hours. It annoyed her that he no longer even looked at her now. She understood that he disliked her but his aversion to her was almost like he couldn't even look at her. She was quite obviously offended by his behavior but he seemed to not even notice.

"Oops. Didn't mean to," she lied.

Isabelle laughed and received a rather harsh look from him. "Hey, don't be mad at me dude. She's the one with bad aim… or good aim, depending on the way you look at it," she joked, glancing at Clary causing her to start laughing along with her. Jace scowled but let it go quickly as he took a large and vicious bite out of his sandwich.

Not wanting to keep worrying about Jace and his attitude, Clary focused her attention on the landscape. There was tall grass and trees for as long as she could see as she looked to her left, but there was a mountain fairly close to them to her right. Its size was intimidating considering how low to the ground they were. She gazed up higher to look at the sky which was an absolutely pure shade of blue that wasn't marred by clouds. The sun shined unfailingly, probably giving her a sunburn. At that thought she immediately looked down at her arms and sure enough they were already starting to turn pink. She cursed her pale skin and sighed, looking towards the horses that were munching on grass and just lolling around looking tired. She figured they should find a lake soon so that they could at least get some relief from the heat.

After about an hour of snacking and relaxing in the shade, they gathered their things and set out again. They followed the tracks at a walk, looking for signs of the horses but also keeping a look out for a lake or a river to get water for the horses and to refill their canteens. The terrain changed after a while, becoming rockier and causing them to lose the trail of the hoof prints. Knowing that the rocky ground meant that they were getting closer to water, Clary led the group in the direction of the rocks and the horses' hooves clattered noisily against the hard material.

There still wasn't much talk, and if there was any it was about the heat or the direction they were going in. Clary desperately wanted to just find the horses and be done but no matter how far ahead of herself she looked, she couldn't see any more signs of where they were. When she stopped looking so intently she noticed how slow their pace had become. They were still at a walk but as she looked to the side of her she noticed that Jumanji looked almost lethargic. About an hour later they finally found a lake to stop by for which she was thankful. She didn't want to have to worry about the horses they were riding considering she was already worrying so much about the other horses.

She looked at her watch as everyone dismounted and led their horses to the lakeside and saw that it was almost five thirty. Not noticing the time before, she felt bad for letting the horses keep going for so long without resting. She knew that they would have to stop and rest there for the night. As she led George to the lake, she looked at her surroundings once more. She saw more mountains than she had before and she guessed that they were quite a few miles from home. They had actually searched a fairly large area and this made her concerned. How far could they have gone? She thought to herself. The horses had only been gone for about a day and a half. She wrung the reins in her hands nervously as George drank thirstily at the cool water.

"Clary?"

It was Isabelle. Clary looked at her with a feeble smile. "What's up?" she asked, wondering if she needed something.

Isabelle sighed and looked at Clary thoughtfully. "You're worrying again, Clary. We're going to find them. I can feel it. Now stop choking your horse and come and have some food," she said quietly, taking Clary's hands and untangling them from the reins. She led her over to the group silently, set her down near a large boulder, and handed her another sandwich. It really was the most substantial thing that Amatis had packed other than some trail mix and dried beef jerky.

She ate the sandwich almost mechanically as she continued to think about where they should go next and what time they should wake up to get moving again. As she thought, Simon, who was sitting close by, tossed her the large bag of trail mix which fell into her lap, bringing her out of her robotic state. He nodded towards the bag and said, "The raisins taste like old man." Clary chuckled, knowing that Simon had an unnecessary hatred for dried fruit and shoved her hand into the bag, taking a large handful. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was. As she chewed she looked over and saw that Jace stood leaning against a tree nearby, holding his canteen lazily in his left hand. She watched him pour some of the water onto his head and shake, letting the water droplets fling out in all directions before pushing his hair back again and continuing to lean against the tree.

"Ugh, so hot," Isabelle said vehemently. Clary started as she was pulled out of her reverie and glanced at her friend, realizing that she wasn't thinking the same thing she was. Isabelle was talking about the weather. And she was right. As Clary looked up she saw no clouds in sight that could give them some relief from the heat of the sun. Isabelle fanned herself with her hand as she lay on the boulder above her. Sitting up suddenly she asked, "Who wants to go for a swim?"

Simon waved his arm into the air tiredly in a sign of agreement. Clary was all for it, she felt all sweaty and disgusting and she figured a nice swim would fix that. Jace looked at least remotely interested also considering he had looked up from the ground and he was now staring at Isabelle. "I'll take that silence as a unanimous yes?" Isabelle asked as she slid off of the rock and started to take her boots off.

The rest of them stood up and followed suit, taking off their socks as well. Isabelle unashamedly took off her shirt first showing a rather ostentatiously red sports bra; no one had thought to bring swimsuits. Simon averted his eyes almost immediately, his face turning pink. Clary chuckled under her breath at Simon's reaction and looked to her left just as Jace took his own shirt off, her eyes lingering just long enough for him to notice her watching him. He smirked at her just as she looked away hastily. Blushing furiously, she chastised herself for staring at him again.

Isabelle and Simon were already in the water by the time Clary looked up again and she saw Isabelle playfully splashing Simon in the face, effectively starting an all out splash-war between the two of them. Clary laughed as she watched Simon get beaten by a girl, cowering as she pelted him with splashes. "Aren't you coming?" Jace asked as he walked by her, only in his boxer shorts. She blushed again and looked away, quickly continuing to take off her own shirt

"Woo! Clarrryyy!" Isabelle shouted at her, adding a wolf whistle. She blushed a deeper shade of red as she looked down at herself seeing a very modest camisole. She looked up to see Jace looking back at her with almost a smile. He looked at her form for a moment longer than was needed before turning back and stepping into the lake. With her head held just a bit higher, she began taking off her jeans and threw them aside hurriedly. She joined the other three, eager to escape the constant heat.

* * *

_Please REVIEW and tell me what you liked and/or disliked about this chapter! :) I would love to hear some reviews about my work and not about when my next update will be :P_


End file.
